


Fracture

by miss_mina_murray



Series: The Unwoven Tapestry [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, anders and surana being buddies, kitranna is Sick Of This Shit, queen culwydd can't fuckign stand those lyrium junkie templars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-17
Updated: 2016-10-29
Packaged: 2018-08-22 22:30:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 48,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8303569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miss_mina_murray/pseuds/miss_mina_murray
Summary: The Archdemon is dead, Ferelden is united, and the Blight has been stopped.  All is not well, however, as darkspawn continue to pose a threat, and the Chantry begins to turn its all-seeing eye towards Ferelden.





	1. My Wrath Did Grow

**Author's Note:**

> hi folks! we're covering kitranna's adventures in awakening this time around, and this is where that ol' tapestry starts getting pretty fucked up, so hold onto ur hats
> 
> lady seeker nicolene was the seeker when divine beatrix was in charge--lambert assumed the position when divine justinia assumed hers (which, if i recall correctly, happens after awakening and probably right before act 1 of da2). lord seeker lucius, in dai, took the position after cole killed lambert in asunder. cassandra has always been here lmao she's the eternal member of the seeker gang

The Lady Seeker Nicolene stalked through the halls of the Grand Cathedral, her demeanor stormy enough that no one would dare approach her. 

It had been six months since the Archdemon had been slain in Denerim, and everything was slowly but surely going straight to the Void. 

The Seekers had been effectively running the Chantry for years now, from behind the scenes. Her Worship, Divine Beatrix, was very, very old, and her mind was going. The healers said that she only had a few more years, at the most, and she simply could not effectively lead the Chantry anymore. 

So, while they did their best to make it seem as if Beatrix was in perfect health, Lady Seeker Nicolene and The Left Hand of the Divine, Cassandra Pentaghast, attempted to keep everything running smoothly. 

This was a task not helped by the recent Blight in Ferelden, the constant crisis that was Kirkwall, and the recent change of leadership in Orzammar. There was also Orlais' positively infuriating Game, but that was more of a source of constant irritation than anything new. 

Nicolene came to the room she was seeking, one of the smaller meeting rooms in the back halls of the Grand Cathedral, out of the way of main traffic. Cassandra was already there, as well as Nicolene's own right hand, Seeker Lambert.

“Lady Seeker,” Cassandra said, as both she and Lambert got to their feet. Nicolene waved at them to sit and sat down at the table herself. 

“What news?” she asked.

“Her Worship is much the same,” Cassandra said, a twist to her scarred mouth. “There is no halting the advances of age.”

Nicoline pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed. “I thought as such. Are there any candidates for the next Divine?”

“Many of the Chantry do not want to search for a new Divine until Her Worship is actively on her deathbed,” Cassandra said. “There have been some suggestions of candidates, but overall, no one has been put forward definitively.”

Nicolene rested her chin on the back of her hands. “We need to find candidates ourselves, then,” she said. “If the Grand Clerics do not wish to plan appropriately for the future, we must take the matter into our own hands.”

Cassandra gave a short, sharp nod, her mouth pressed into a thin line. 

“Lambert?” Nicolene asked. 

“Warden Commander Surana is still missing,” he said. “No Templar, Seeker, nor Ferelden soldier has been able to locate her thus far. We suspect that King Alistair may be hampering our efforts.”

Nicolene waved a hand. “She is not our current concern,” she said. “As long as she is not currently making trouble, I care not.”

Lambert looked disapproving. “Lady Seeker, I must protest,” he said, leaning forward. “A mage with that much freedom and political power—it cannot be tolerated.”

“And if she were currently exercising that political power, I might care,” Nicolene said. “But as it is, she has done nothing except fall off of our maps. I am more concerned about the darkspawn gathering in Amaranthine.”

“King Alistair and Queen Anora have informed us that they have the situation in hand,” Cassandra said. “They have called in reinforcements from Orlais, and it is possible that they _have_ managed to contact Warden-Commander Surana.” she glanced at Lambert. “If Surana is engaged in dealing with the darkspawn, she will not be the danger you anticipate.”

Lambert still looked unhappy.

“I have seen this pattern before,” he said, his tone dark. “Mages gain power—not a great deal at first, but enough to loosen the Chantry's hold. Then the greedy among them wish to gain more power, and the end result is Tevinter.”

“Is that not an extreme example?” Cassandra said.

“Is it?” Lambert asked. “Consider this—Surana is friends, or at least allies, with key individuals in Orzammar and Ferelden. She helped put King Alistair on the throne! She named Bann Shianni herself and, if the tale is true, found Queen Aeducan wandering the Deep Roads by chance.”

“Many Wardens are friends or allies with important people,” Cassandra pointed out. “Although...that is certainly convenient for her.”

“Surana is not our problem, at this exact moment,” Nicolene said, furrowing her brow. “She can wait. What worries me is the Darkspawn, and the Wardens themselves.”

Lambert nodded. “Surana is just a symptom of a larger problem,” he agreed. “We have little control over the Wardens of Orlais and the Anderfels—King Alistair calling upon them for aid concerns me.”

Nicolene nodded in agreement. It was true that a Warden such as King Alistair had never held a throne before, and the precedent it set was...unsettling. The Wardens were not supervised by the Chantry, nor the government of any one nation. They were secretive and insular, recruiting the likes of maleficar and criminals into their ranks. 

Before now, however, they had kept solely to the provision of killing darkspawn and leaving the politics to the nobility and the Chantry. King Alistair's coronation had been alarming, even if it did seem to be the best solution for the country at the time. The fact that a child of Maric's had been inducted into the Gray Wardens in the first place was a red flag, as well. Nicolene had no proof that the Gray Wardens had been conspiring to steal the Ferelden throne, but she had nothing that said otherwise, either. 

“And what of Orzammar?” she asked. “Are they helping with the darkspawn problem as well, or are they still sheltering apostates?”

“No, apparently Queen Aeducan sent some of the Legion of the Dead to Amaranthine's Deep Roads, but other than that she's staying out of it.” Lambert informed her.

“We're still losing apostates to Orzammar, I assume.”

Lambert nodded. “The last Templars who attempted to get into the city were driven away at the gate.”

Nicolene hissed through her teeth.

“They are still sending us lyrium shipments,” Lambert added. “They simply refuse to allow Templars to pass through the gates.”

A month after the Archdemon's death, Queen Aeducan had made a formal alliance with Keeper Lanaya, offering the Dalish Clan shelter in exchange for use of their mages. Keeper Lanaya had, in turn, composed several treaties with other Ferelden Clans, resulting in a large number of Dalish Clans moving to the Frostbacks on a semi-permanent basis. There, they were sheltered by Orzammar, and had frequent trade. 

Word of the large influx of Dalish had reached the Calenhad Circle, and many mages who had been in the army ran to Orzammar, who sheltered them as well. As it turned out, Orzammar had a great need and appreciation for mages, and very little fear of demons or blood magic. Templars had an extremely difficult time retrieving mages from Orzammar, as the dwarven populace did not appreciate foreign humans barging in and disrupting everyday business. 

“Is there any other way to try and retrieve the mages from Orzammar?” Nicolene asked. 

Lambert shook his head. “The Templars have tried a variety of different ways,” he said. “Mostly they fail, and with Queen Aeducan's new rules on immigration, it's even more difficult.”

“Wonderful,” Nicolene ground her teeth. “We're going to have to make some new rules of our own—make it more difficult to travel to the Frostbacks or something.”

“If we do that, travel and transport between Ferelden and Orlais will become even more difficult,” Cassandra pointed out. “And Orzammar will have reason to tighten their borders again--”

“Better that than letting them be open to apostates,” Lambert said.

Nicolene sighed and waved a hand. “A problem for later,” she said. “In any case—there is the problem of the darkspawn, the Gray Wardens, and Her Worship. Those are our priorities. It seems to me that the Warden-Commander is merely a symptom of a larger issue—that of the Wardens becoming involved with government.”

Lambert gravely nodded his head. “The Orlesian Wardens have made no advances upon the Court,” he said. “But the Ferelden Wardens had appeared to remain independent for many years before King Alistair was put on the throne.”

“The Wardens have no regulation,” Cassandra pointed out. “No oversight. In times of a Blight, their authority supersedes even the Divine herself. It is no longer a Blight, but there are still Darkspawn about—who is to say that they will not attempt to overreach their authority?”

“Exactly my worry,” Nicolene agreed. “Queen Aeducan and King Alistair—both influenced directly by the Wardens, and King Alistair was crowned without any consultation of the Chantry.”

“Well...that does make sense,” Cassandra said, tilting her head to the side. “The Fereldens are still extremely untrusting of the Chantry, seeing it as an arm of the Orlesian government.”

“King Cailan was crowned by the Chantry,” Nicolene pointed out. “Alistair was crowned in a slapdash ceremony by, apparently, a laysister. He was made King too quickly for any news to reach Orlais.”

“King Cailan was also slain in a plan devised by the Gray Wardens,” Lambert said.

Cassandra rolled her eyes. “The Wardens were not responsible for Cailan's death,” she said. “The battle at Ostagar was a disaster either way.”

“But the Wardens _were_ involved,” Lambert insisted. “And, very conveniently, I might add, the only other man of royal blood just so happened to be in the Warden contingent that survived the battle.”

“You have said this before,” Cassandra said, restraining herself from rolling her eyes. 

“It is a legitimate perspective,” Nicolene said with a shrug. “If far-fetched.” she rubbed her temples. “In any case, we need to keep an eye on the Ferelden Wardens and the darkspawn as a whole.” Nicolene sat back in her chair. “I suppose for now, the best we can do it watch the situation. Wardens are the people best equipped to deal with darkspawn, mages or no. Perhaps we can contact someone from the Orlesian Warden chapter and ask that they go to Amaranthine...”

“We should do that,” Lambert said. 

Cassandra nodded in agreement. “They can by no means turn down assistance,” she said. “And a Warden will be far better received than anyone else.”

“Certainly better received than a Chevalier, or even a Seeker,” Nicolene said. “And someone needs to deal with the Darkspawn anyway.”

“Who should we send?” Cassandra asked. 

“There are only a few Wardens I would trust to do this,” Lambert said. “Especially with the possibility of Surana returning...”

“Contact them,” Nicolene instructed. “Speak to them, and send the one you believe is best suited to Amaranthine.”

 

Kitranna Surana, Commander of the Grey and Hero of Ferelden, was currently walking up a rainy road, her waterproofing spell being thoroughly tested by the rain, and hating every step of it. 

Alistair had called her back into active duty. She had been wandering Ferelden, on errands of her own, not actively trying to disappear but neither was she advertising her presence, when Alistair had requested her assistance with the Darkspawn problem in Amaranthine. 

She had been met on the road by Mhairi, a young, hopeful Warden recruit. They were within sight of Vigil's keep when something began to feel off.

“What's going on?” Mhairi said, looking around. “Why are there no Wardens here to greet us?”

Something prickled at the back of Kitranna's head, and she sighed. “I feel darkspawn,” she said, gritting her teeth.

“Darkspawn?” Mhairi said. “But--”

She was cut off as a man came barreling out of the Keep's broken gate, chased by several hurlocks. Kitranna and Mhairi both pulled out their weapons and dispatched the darkspawn with little trouble, but this was only three of them.

As soon as the darkspawn were down, Mhairi set about tending to the man that they had been chasing. He looked terrible, battered and shellshocked. 

He stared at Kitranna. “Are you—the Hero of Ferelden?” he asked.

She folded her arms. “Why do you say that?” she said.

“Commander...” Mhairi hissed.

Kitranna rolled her eyes. “Yes, fine, it's me. What's going on here?”

“Oh, thank the Maker...” the man breathed. “I don't know, they came out of nowhere! All I heard were screams and people dying...I got out as fast as I could, but I ran into...those...” his gaze drifted to the dead Darkspawn. “Please, we need to help them!” he said, gesturing to the Keep.

“'We' nothing,” Kitranna said. “ _You_ are getting yourself to safety. Mhairi and me are going to deal with this.” she pointed him down the road. 

“Uh—yes, my lady,” the man said. “Thank you, my lady.”

The man left, and Mhairi turned to Kitranna. “We don't have a lot of time, Commander...” she said.

“I know that,” Kitranna said. “Come on—we need to keep going.”

Mhairi nodded. “Let's teach these evil bastards a lesson,” she growled.

Kitranna moved ahead, with Mhairi at her heels. “Who's in charge here?” she asked. “A seneschal, something like that?”

Mhairi nodded. “Yes, Commander—Harel, the King's Steward.” she looked up at the Keep, biting her lip. “I do not know if he is still alive.”

“We don't know if anyone's alive,” Kitranna said. She summoned her Arcane strength and durability, making her armor and skin gleam and the Fade around her warp a bit. Mhari peered at her, but didn't comment. “And the Keep definitely wasn't like this when you left?”

“No, of course not!” Mhairi exclaimed. 

There were more darkspawn inside the walls of the Keep, and Kitranna could feel even more inside the fortress itself. She scowled—she had encountered fewer and fewer darkspawn ever since she had killed the Archdemon, and this many in one place was alarming. 

She and Mhairi fought several darkspawn groups, rescuing a bare few survivors. Mhairi was a knight in the King's army, the daughter of a minor noble from a bannorn that Kitranna couldn't remember the name of. She had fought in the last battle in Denerim, and was well-experienced at killing darkspawn.

They fought their way to the fortress of Vigil's Keep itself. At the gates there was a positively enormous Ogre, but they managed to slay it as well. 

Mhairi was clearly flagging by the time they killed the Ogre, but Kitranna was fine—that Arcane Warrior strength was very handy during long fights like this. 

The inside of the fortress was quiet, unnervingly so. There were bodies on the ground, and one fire still smoldered quietly.

“How did the Wardens not sense the darkspawn coming?” Mhairi asked, staring around at the keep. They could smell smoke and there was definite spell and fire damage on the walls. “I don't understand...”

“How many Wardens are here?” Kitranna asked.

“Maybe a dozen, from Orlais,” Mhairi said. She shook her head. “This doesn't make any sense...how did the darkspawn ambush the Keep so effectively, with no Archdemon leading them?”

Kitranna narrowed her eyes. “Maybe it's another Archdemon,” she said.

“So soon?” Mhairi shuddered. “A frightening thought.”

Kitranna shrugged. “Could be something else. Or they learned how to do it themselves.”

“I don't know which is worse.”

“Me either,” Kitranna said. “Come on.”

They moved ahead, fending back yet another wave of darkspawn. The gate to the inner Keep was locked and barred, so they were forced to go around. It was in one of the side rooms that they encountered a surviving mage, burning several darkspawn attackers with a very considerable fire spell.

The last darkspawn fell, and the mage shook his hands as if he'd burned them as well as his opponent. He turned to face Kitranna and Mhairi and blinked, expression surprised. He glanced over at the dead darkspawn, and Kitranna realized there were at least two Templar bodies there as well. 

“Ah—I didn't do it.” the mage said, lamely. 

Kitranna raised her eyebrows and she and Mhairi exchanged a look.

“Oh—don't get me wrong,” the mage said. “I'm not broken up about them dying, to be perfectly honest. Biff there made the funnest gurgle when he went down.” he gestured at one of the fallen Templars.

“I'm sure he did,” Kitranna said. “Ah—who are you, exactly?”

“Where are my manners?” the mage said. “I'm Anders, mage and wanted apostate, at your service.”

“Apostate, huh?” Kitranna said. She narrowed her eyes. “Wait a second—I know you!”

“You...do?” Anders grimaced.

“You're that idiot who jumped in the lake, at Calenhad!” she pulled her hood down.

His eyes widened. “Surana!” he exclaimed. “ _I'm_ the idiot? You helped a blood mage escape and then went to go fight darkspawn!”

“And saved the whole damn country, if you remember.”

“Yes, well, I think you missed a spot.” he gestured at the darkspawn. 

“Commander...” Mhairi said. “What is an apostate doing at Vigil's keep?”

Anders looked at Mhairi. “You weren't here when we arrived,” he said. “I'm sure I would have remembered such a lovely woman as yourself.”

Mhairi glared, and Anders quickly changed tack. 

“We were just stopping here on the way back to the Tower,” he said, gesturing to the dead Templars. “Just a short rest, they said, and now they're dead.” he smirked. “Such a shame.”

Kitranna tutted and shook her head. “It really is too bad,” she said, smirking as well. “Well—no time to dwell on it now. C'mon, you can help us take the Keep back.”

“Sure,” Anders said. “We can discuss what happens later...later, when all these bastards are dead.”

So, Anders joined their party as they tried to get into the fortress, clearing out the darkspawn attackers. Anders was a spirit healer of some considerable skill, which proved to be of great assistance. 

There were few soldiers still alive, and they encountered absolutely no Wardens, bodies or otherwise, which was greatly concerning. They got deeper inside the Keep (with the assistance of a surviving dwarf who had a love for explosives), and still encountered no Wardens, but plenty of corpses. 

It was in the Keep that they found Oghren. He was hacking away at a large group of Darkspawn, and seemed to be holding his own. He spotted Kitranna and waved. They dispatched the darkspawn, quicker now that they had Oghren helping.

They finished with the darkspawn and Oghren came up to them. “There you are!” he exclaimed. “When these darkspawn showed up I thought—just wait till Surana gets here, and you'll all be spitting teeth our yer arses!” he slung his war ax over his back. “Followed the screaming, and sure enough, here you are.”

“Yep,” Kitranna said. “But what are _you_ doing here?”

“Came here thinking I might try my hand at being a bona fide Gray Warden,” he explained. 

“He was here when I left,” Mhairi grumbled, folding her arms. “I can't believe the Wardens didn't kick him out.”

“Wardens take all kinds,” Kitranna said, as Oghren opened his mouth, presumably to say something offensive. “Even drunkards like this one.”

Oghren scowled, then laughed. “As mean as ever, eh?” he said. “Probably worse, since yer witch ran off.” he looked at Anders. “Unless—don't tell me you picked up another apostate? He yer boyfriend now? Should I leave you two alone?”

“Wow, a dwarf that smells like a brewery,” Anders rolled his eyes. “Can't find those anywhere.”

“Huh, a mage comedian,” Oghren retorted. “Thought you usually died young.”

“He's just someone we picked up,” Kitranna said. “He's a healer, so I wouldn't piss him off.”

“Healer?” Oghren straightened up. “Far as I know, those are pretty good at holding their liquor. What about you, ponytail?”

Anders blinked. “Not bad at it,” he said. “Though I'm not someone who makes a career out of drinking, unlike someone else I could name.”

“Well—it's nice to see someone else who knows how to hold a weapon,” Kitranna said, grasping Oghren's forearm in a friendly greeting. “C'mon, we can introduce some darkspawn to the business end of a sharp object.”

“Now you're talking,” Oghren said with a grin. 

“Are we really going to accept help from _him_?” Mhairi said with a scowl.

“We sure are,” Kitranna said with a grin. 

They continued on clearing out the fortress, faster now that they had Oghren's help. They came across no survivors, until they found one human man, slumped against the wall in a back hallway.

“M-mhairi?” the man croaked, looking up at the woman he named.

Mhairi kneeled down next to the injured man. “Rowland!” she looked at Kitranna. “Commander, Rowland is a knight from Denerim, like me—we must do something for him!”

Kitranna looked at Anders, who shook his head.

“He looks beyond healing magic,” he said quietly. “The best we could manage is a shot of whiskey for the pain.”

“I like the way you think,” Oghren muttered. 

“Stop joking!” Mhairi snapped. “This isn't funny!”

“C-commander?” Rowland looked up at Kitranna, who stepped forward.

“That's right,” she said. “That's me.”

“We only had a moment's warning before they were on us, Commander,” he said. “The seneschal ordered a counter-attack, but they came out of nowhere!” he tried to sit up, but couldn't manage it. “There's one with them, a darkspawn who talks—its magic is powerful.”

Kitranna frowned. “A talking darkspawn?”

“Must be delirious,” Oghren said. 

Rowland nodded. “No—no, it's true!” he said, and sucked in a labored breath. “Oh, Maker—there's something in my blood—it hurts!”

“The Taint,” Kitranna said with a sigh.

“Is there nothing we can do?” Mhairi demanded.

“Not now,” Kitranna said, and went down on one knee next to the fallen man. “Rowland, I need you to tell me—where is the talking darkspawn?”

“That way—it went after the seneschal...” his head tilted back, and he was dead.

“I will avenge you, Rowland, I swear it.” Mhairi promised. 

“Come on,” Kitranna said. “We need to find that thing.”

They went down the hall, and continued through the rest of the fortress, trying to find the talking darkspawn. All the darkspawn they encountered inside were ordinary, however, and they came across nothing unusual until they started exploring the outer walls.

They found a darkspawn, taller than most, dressed in better armor than most darkspawn. 

“It has ended just as he foretold,” the darkspawn said. Its voice was whispery and rough. It knocked a soldier off the ledge before turning to two other darkspawn, more normal ones, who held an unfamiliar human man hostage. 

“Be taking this one, gently.” the darkspawn instructed, looking down at the human. “We are wishing no more death than is necessary.”

“Necessary?” the man spat. “As if your kind has ever done anything else!”

“You are thinking you know of our kind, human?” the darkspawn's voice was curiously derisive. “It is understandable. But that will soon be changed.”

“Others will come, creature!” the man said. “They will stop you!”

“First,” Kitranna said, and all the darkspawn and the humans turned to look at her and her party. “We'd want to know exactly what was going on.”

“It seems your words be true,” the darkspawn said. “More than you be guessing.” he turned to face Kitranna. 

“It _is_ talking!” Anders said, strangely excited. 

“Well, let's shut it up already!” Oghren said. 

“Commander...” the human man croaked.

“Capture the Gray Warden,” the darkspawn instructed. “The others, they can be killed.”

“Oh, no,” Kitranna said, summoning her Arcane strength about it. “I don't think that'll be happening.”

The talking darkspawn was more difficult to fight than its nonverbal compatriots, but they managed to defeat it in the end. The man who the darkspawn had been threatening got up to greet them. 

“Commander, I owe you my life,” the man said. “I am seneschal Varel. It is good you arrived when you did.”

“Mm,” Kitranna wiped her sword off. “What was that thing?”

He shook his head. “I do not know,” he said. He looked out over the battlements. “It seems we have company—there are soldiers in the road.”

Her gaze followed his. She narrowed her eyes—she spotted the livery of the King's men. 

“That looks like Alistair,” she said. “Come on—we should go and meet him.”

It was indeed Alistair who approached the gates, flanked by a contingent of soldiers and a harried-looking Templar.

“Looks like I arrived a bit late,” Alistair said with a grin. “Too bad. I rather miss the whole darkspawn-killing thing.”

“No you don't,” Kitranna said. “I'd just about forgotten the smell and then I had to go and kill a whole load of them.”

Alistair sighed. “I'd wanted to come and give the Wardens a formal welcome—I wasn't expecting _this_. What's the situation?”

“The darkspawn who remained have fled, your Majesty,” the seneschal said. “The Wardens from Orlais are either dead or...missing.”

“Which of course speaks volumes about them, I'm sure,” Kitranna said, rolling her eyes. 

“Missing?” Alistair narrowed his eyes. “As in...?”

“Taken by darkspawn,” Kitranna said.

Alistair blanched. “Broodmothers?”

“No, it was both men and women,” the seneschal said. “And more than ever previously.”

Alistair rubbed his forehead. “Well, at least you're still here,” he told Kitranna. “That's something, right?”

“Of course I'm still here. By the time I got here the attack was already half-over and the Wardens were all already gone.” Kitranna said. She shook her head. “Do me a favor and mail an angry letter to the Orlesian Wardens or something.”

Alistair grimaced. “I...don't think that's a good idea at the moment.”

“No? Well what else should we do? A whole contingent of Wardens is gone because apparently they were too incompetent to put up with a wave of darkspawn!” she snapped. 

“These weren't ordinary darkspawn, as you might have noticed,” the seneschal said quietly.

Kitranna pinched the bridge of her nose. “Look, we need to get those Wardens back, or at least figure out what in the name of the Maker the darkspawn want with them.”

“I'd help if I could,” Alistair said. “But you're on your own for the moment.”

“Hey, what am I?” Oghren protested. “Chopped nug liver?”

“From the smell, that's not a bad guess,” Anders sniped. 

“Look, I came here to join the Gray Wardens, and by the looks of things, you could use the help!”

“Hey, I'm not turning down help,” Kitranna said. “But I can't just do a Joining on the spot, you know.”

“I suppose that...all are welcome, in this dire time,” Mhairi muttered.

“Well, good luck with that,” Anders said.

The Templar's head jerked up at the sound of Anders' voice. “King Alistair,” she said, stepping forward. “That man is a dangerous criminal,” she pointed at Anders.

“Who, him?” Kitranna said. 

“This is an apostate who we were in the midst of bringing back to the Circle to face justice!” the Templars said.

“Oh, so you're the one in charge of those idiots who got themselves killed by darkspawn?” Kitranna said. “First you can't handle a few demons, now darkspawn! Honestly this would worry me but I'm convinced all that lyrium makes you half-blind as well as stupid, so it's not really a surprise.”

“He is a murderer,” the Templar said, glowering at Kitranna. “I will see him hanged for what he has done!”

“The spirit healer's a murderer?” Kitranna scoffed. “Right, pull the other one.”

“I never murdered anyone!” Anders protested. “Oh—what's the use? You won't believe me anyhow.”

Alistair rubbed the back of his head. “Seems there's not much to say here,” he said. “Unless you had something to add, Surana?”

“Yeah. It's called the Right of Conscription, and I'm invoking it,” she clapped a hand on Anders' shoulder and he almost buckled under the weight. 

“What?” the Templar exclaimed. “Never!”

“That's her right as Commander,” Alistair told the Templar. 

“Surely you cannot allow a murderer into the Wardens?” the Templar exclaimed. She glanced at Kitranna and Anders, tracing the line of the sword on Kitranna's back. “But...if your Majesty feels it is best...”

“I do,” Alistair said. 

The Templar scowled, but inclined her head. 

“Me? A Gray Warden?” Anders said. “I...suppose that'll work...”

“Congratulations, ser mage,” Mhairi said with a smile. 

Alistair sighed and rubbed the back of his head. “If you have everything under control here, I'll need to take my leave,” he said. “The Orlesians will probably be kicking up a fuss about this...”

“I think we're good here,” Kitranna said. "You go deal with the Orlesians." She sighed. "This is already totally out of control,” 

“I couldn't agree more,” Alistair grumbled. “Look—you need to keep a lid on things and deal with this. The Chantry and the Empress won't like hearing about this, Maker knows what they'll do if something else happens.”

“Has there been anything from the Orlesian ambassador?” Kitranna asked. Orlais had sent an envoy to Denerim three months after the Archdemon's defeat, to try and repair communications between the two nations. 

Alistair shook his head. “Nothing out of the ordinary, but she'll probably be pretty angry when she hears about this.”

“What about the Chantry? Did the Seekers at Calenhad finish their investigation?”

When word of the demon attack at Calenhad Circle had reached Orlais, the Seekers had immediately sent one of their own to investigate. Kitranna had steered clear of Calenhad, so she had no idea what had happened.

Alistair pinched the bridge of his nose. “They did, and they're not happy,” he said. “Truth be told, they're not very happy about the inclusion of mages into the army at all. There's an awful lot of missing mages, too, mages whose phylacteries got destroyed either by accident or not, and they have no idea where they are.”

Kitranna closed her eyes. “Any other trouble?”

“None yet, but knowing how things work, give it time.”

She ran a hand over her head. “Keep things calm in Denerim,” she said. “And I'll try and work out what's going on here.”

“Try not to destroy everything, will you?”

“I'll do my best.”

 

Kitranna went to meet back up with Varel, as he was the one coordinating everything at the moment. 

“Before anything else is done, Commander, there is an urgent matter we need to take care of,” Varel said. 

Kitranna nodded. “The Joining, I know.”

Varel nodded. “We have the capability to perform the Joining,” he said. “As well as three Warden candidates.” he nodded at Mahiri, Anders, and Oghren, who were hovering at different places in the chamber, none of them quite sure what to do at the moment. 

Kitranna letout a breath and put her hands on her hips. “We can do it,” she said. “Not sure how happy that'll make the Orlesians, though—three Ferelden Wardens after all the Orlesian ones have gone missing?” she shook her head. “Whatever. C'mon, let's get to it,” she said. “We've got plenty of darkspawn blood and some Archdemon blood handy. Let's go.”

“If you wish,” Varel said. 

 

“The time has come for us to begin the Joining,” Kitranna said in a bored monotone. She pinched the bridge of her nose. She didn't usually stand on ceremony, but Varel had insisted. “Join us, brothers and sisters, join us in the shadows where we stand vigilant. Join us as we carry the duty that cannot be forsworn. Should you perish, know that your sacrifice won't be forgotten, and one day, we shall join you. Now drink this,” she pushed the enormous cup, full of blood, at Oghren. 

“What's this, the sampler size?” Oghren demanded, holding the cup in both hands.

Kitranna rolled her eyes. “Just drink it.”

Oghren took a swig and handed the cup back to Kitranna, who held it and watched him. His eyes went white, and he belched.

“Not bad,” he said, eyes still white. 

“Amazing,” Kitranna muttered. “Oi, Anders—you're up next.”

Anders grimaced, looking down at the cup. “I need to drink—darkspawn blood?”

“Yeah. Now hurry up.”

“Is that it?”

“That's it. Take the cup, Anders.”

He accepted the cup. “Alright—but if I wake up two weeks from now on a ship bound for Rivain, in nothing but my smallclothes, with a tattoo on my forehead, I'm blaming you.”

“Duly noted. For the love of the Maker, hurry it up.”

Anders took a much smaller sip from the cup than Oghren had done. He gave the cup back to Kitranna, blinked a few times, then collapsed backwards, landing squarely on his staff.

Kitranna sighed, and kneeled down to check if he was still alive. He was.

“Lightweight,” Oghren muttered. His eyes had gone back to normal and apart from a slight shakiness, he appeared totally fine. 

“Will he be alright?” Mhairi asked.

“Yeah, he'll wake up sometime,” Kitranna said. “Alright, Mhairi—your turn.”

“I have awaited this,” Mhairi breathed, taking the cup. She took a sip. She choked, clutching her throat, and her eyes rolled up in her head and she fell forward, dead.

“Damn,” Kitranna muttered. 

“I am sorry,” Varel said quietly. “May the Maker watch over you.”

Mhairi's body was removed from the hall, and Anders was deposited on an actual bed. While they waited for Anders to wake up, Kitranna was briefed on the state of the Keep, which was not good. There were some nearby merchants who might help them patch the place up, and of course there were at least a few different trade routes that went right through Vigil's Keep, but that wasn't the most important problem they were facing.

They problem with the Orlesian Wardens needed to be somehow addressed immediately. The Orlesians were already getting restless—the civil war had soured the relations Cailan had been trying to secure, and the swiftness with which the Archdemon had been dealt with looked extremely convenient to outside eyes. Dead Orlesian Wardens would just make things even worse. 

The majority of the Wardens had been at Vigil's Keep, and they had all died in the attack (which didn't say anything good about the Orlesian Wardens' standards in Kitranna's humble opinion), except for one, who was still out in the field. His name was Kristoff, and he had left a fortnight ago, telling no one exactly where he was going. They assumed he had gone to the city of Amaranthine, so if Kitranna wanted to track him down, she needed to start there.

There was one other thing. 

A thief had been caught before the darkspawn attack, and had been spared by being locked in the dungeons. It had taken four Wardens to capture him, so Kitranna, having only Anders and Oghren as backup Wardens, was immediately intrigued, so she went down to see this prisoner. 

“It's a good thing you're here, Commander,” the guard in charge of the cells told her when she entered the prisons. “Good men died while this one was protected in his cell,” the guard said, gesturing to the thief in his cell.

Kitranna rolled her eyes. “Maybe they were good men, that didn't make them good fighters,” she said. “If it took four mediocre Wardens to imprison this thief, he must be good for something.” She addressed the prisoner directly while the guard stared at her, aghast. “What's your name?” she asked.

“If it isn't the great hero, conqueror of the Blight and vanquisher of all evil,” the thief sneered. “Aren't you supposed to be ten feet tall, with lightning bolts shooting out your eyes?”

“Can't do much about the height, but I _can_ do this,” she said, and momentarily hot white sparks appeared at the corners of her eyes. “It's not very practical though. Look, I don't have time to trade insults. Your name, and what you're doing here, thanks.”

The man straightened his back. “I am Nathaniel Howe. My family owned these lands before you came. Do you remember my father?”

“Oh, him? He tried to kill the queen and he had a thing for torturing people.” Kitranna tilted her head to one side. “So I don't really feel bad about that.”

Nathaniel blinked at her. “...what?”

“I also don't have time for family nonsense. Tell me what you're doing here.”

“I came here...” Nathaniel faltered. “I thought I was going to try to kill you. To lay a trap for you.”

“Good job. We're all very impressed.”

Nathaniel sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Then I realized I just wanted to reclaim some of my family's things. It's all I have left—we lost everything when my father died.”

“Hm...” Kitranna leaned back and folded her arms. “So, you didn't know Rendon Howe was into torturing people and regicide?”

“No! I was squired in the Free Marches. Look—I understand that you fought a war and you won, and to the victor go the spoils. But what my father did shouldn't harm my whole family, those of us who--”

“You wanna be a Gray Warden?”

Nathaniel paused. “I'm sorry?”

“I need Wardens who are alive and not idiots. You seem alive and not an idiot. You want to join up with the Wardens or don't you?”

“Are you giving me a choice?”

Kitranna shrugged. “Look, I'll be honest. The only Wardens here are me, a drunken dwarf, and a spirit healer that the Templars hate. That's not even _half_ the people I was working with during the Blight, and we have a nasty darkspawn problem around here that needs to be fixed. If you help out, It'd make me happy.” she paused. “And it might help your family's name or whatever.”

He stared at her. “You like having Gray Wardens who want you dead?”

“I met one of my best friends when he tried to assassinate me,” she said with a grin. “So, y'know, I like my odds.”

“I wasn't aware that the hero of Ferelden was both cold-hearted and a maniac,” he told her. 

“You clearly haven't been listening to the right town criers. C'mon,” she said, unlocking the door and taking his arm. “I'm invoking the Right of Conscription. It'll be fun.”

“No it won't!” he tried to yank out of her grip, but she was much stronger than he was. 

“Don't care. Come on.”

 

They went to the seneschal, who was a little put off by Kitranna's choice, but acquiesced to her wishes. 

“If you're sure...” Varel said, eyeing Nathaniel warily. 

“So, let me get this straight,” Anders, who had turned up to watch the Joining, said. “He wanted to kill you, and you want him to be in the Wardens?”

“Yeah,” Kitranna said. “Varel, give him the cup.”

“Wait a minute, Surana--” Anders started.

Nathaniel took the cup. “Moment of truth,” he muttered to himself, and took a swig. He handed the cup back, blinked a few times, then his eyes rolled up in his head and he fell backwards. 

“The Howe is stronger than I expected,” Varel said, leaning down to make sure Nathaniel was alright. “For better or for worse, he will live.”

“Nice,” Kitranna said with an approving nod. “Great—now I have at least a few people to work with.”

“Anyone ever tell you that you’re bloody crazy?” Anders asked.

“This from the man who jumped into Lake Calenhad and tried to swim to shore?”

Anders sighed. “Point taken.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _I was angry with my friend:_  
>  I told my wrath, my wrath did end.  
> I was angry with my foe:  
> I told it not, my wrath did grow.  
> -William Blake, A Poison Tree


	2. And I Watered It In Fears

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> because this story is a shorter one, i'm gonna update it more quickly than moth's wing

Kitranna was officially the Arl of Amaranthine, and as such, she needed to meet with the surrounding nobles who had to swear fealty to her. However, the fact that Vigil's Keep was still reeling from the darkspawn attack meant that she simply could not spare the time to do so. Her priority was to find out more about the darkspawn problem, which required that she take a trip to Amaranthine and find out what Warden Kristoff had been up to.

“You'll just have to placate the nobles,” she instructed Varel, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I can't do everything at once, and we can't have another darkspawn attack on the Keep.”

“No, we cannot, Commander,” Varel agreed. “Is it not possible that we could send a scout or messenger of some kind to Amaranthine instead of you going yourself, however?”

Kitranna bit her lip. “We could,” she said slowly. “I just—I don't know the people here. The talking darkspawn is new—I wouldn't want just anyone running across something like that.”

“Maker,” Varel sighed. “This is a disaster. Were it anything else...”

“I know,” Kitranna grimaced. “The fact is—this thing with the talking darkspawn—I can't entrust anyone but a Warden to deal with it. The only Wardens here are me, Nathaniel, Oghren and Anders, and Oghren isn't exactly the best investigator.”

“And the Howe and the apostate are so new...”

“Exactly.” Kitranna sighed and shook her head. “I'll try and be back as soon as possible with some news, but meanwhile, do what you can about the nobles, and sort out the defenses. Don't get caught off guard again.”

“We will do our best, Commander.” Varel assured her. 

Kitranna took Oghren, Nathaniel and Anders with her on her trip to Amaranthine. She felt there was no better way to field-test Nathaniel and Anders, and she also wanted someone she knew watching her back. Fortunately, Oghren was much the same as he ever was. 

Nathaniel still wasn't very happy about having been roped into the Gray Wardens. He was quiet, and watched Kitranna intently at times, but didn't try anything. 

Anders was flippant and rather excited to be out of the Circle. He was full of energy, talkative and loud. His control over his magic was the slippery grasp of a young spirit healer, the Fade around him was just the slightest bit warped and dented. Any time Kitranna was close enough she felt the hair on the back of her neck stand up, like the air was charged with lightning. 

They all got along well enough. Oghren was generally offensive, as always, and Anders' snarkiness got on Nathaniel's nerves, but there didn't seem to be any serious problems between them. 

They encountered few darkspawn on the road to Amaranthine, which was probably a good sign, but Kitranna didn't want to reach any conclusions just yet. 

 

“This is no accident,” Lambert thundered. 

“Lambert...” Nicolene pinched the bridge of her nose.

“All ten Orlesian Wardens, dead at the hands of a sudden darkspawn attack?” Lambert shook his head. “No—this is not possible.”

“Lambert, I am positive it is in the realm of possibility,” Cassandra said, with a slight frown on her face. “With everything we have heard of the darkspawn--”

“Ten full Wardens are killed by darkspawn attack, and Surana is conveniently the only survivor?” Lambert shook his head. 

“It _is_ worrisome,” Nicolene mused. “I would not think it our concern, but Surana is a mage.” she shook her head. “The overreach from the Wardens alone is a worry, but to give a mage and a Warden a noble title...it smacks of Circle interference.”

“She would be the second Warden to have a noble title in Ferelden,” Cassandra said, her expression troubled. “The Wardens have not been known for their interest in politics before...and this most recent incident just makes everything more suspicious.”

Lambert scowled and sat back in his seat. “We need to keep a closer eye on the Circle of Magi,” he said. “I do not think it is a coincidence that Surana and Warden Fiona both had such an influence on King Alistair, or that of the surviving Ferelden Wardens, one is a mage.”

“Surana has also recruited several replacement Wardens,” Cassandra pointed out. “One of whom is a criminal apostate from the Circle.”

Lambert curled his hand into a fist. “Who are the others?” he asked.

“The dwarf who accompanied her and King Alistair when they hunted the Archdemon, and one of the remaining Howe family.” Cassandra said. 

“So, she draws her new allies from the ranks of those she's familiar with, and the Orlesian Wardens are dead,” Nicolene hummed. “I'm beginning to think you might have a point there, Lambert.”

“Lady Seeker?” Lambert said. 

“This darkspawn attack kills ten foreigners, with no survivors or even any bodies--”

“The Orlesian ambassador to Ferelden was furious about that,” Cassandra muttered. 

“--Leaving Surana the highest-ranked and only Warden there, with the ability to invoke the Right of Conscription on whomever she pleases, with no one able to contradict her. And then she conscripts one of her own friends, a mage, and...” Nicolene tapped her finger on the table. “A Howe. That's the one that makes the least sense.”

“Not all of the Howes agreed with the choices that Rendon Howe made,” Cassandra said with a shrug. “It is possible that the Howe was sympathetic to her. Still, I am uncertain of how wise the decision is.”

Nicolene sighed and leaned back in her chair. “This is becoming a problem,” she said. “This does not bode well.”

“What are we to do about it?” Cassandra asked. “We have no hold over the Wardens, and technically they have done nothing wrong.”

“About that,” Nicolene frowned. “No one has any hold over the Wardens—not the Divine, not the Empress, no one. It appears, however, they are perfectly happy to maneuver themselves into positions of power.” she drummed her fingers on the table. “When mages are allowed power, Tevinter results,” she said. “Is this not true, Lambert?”

Lambert nodded, his expression grim. 

“And it seems that not only are the Wardens gaining power, but mages as well.”

“Warden-Commander Surana is credited with killing the Archdemon,” Cassandra pointed out.

“If there ever was an Archdemon to begin with,” Lambert muttered.

“What?” Cassandra stared at him.

“It seems very convenient to me that an Enchanter as inexperienced as Surana managed to slay an Archdemon in under a year,” Lamberts said. “With, at most, three other Wardens and a ramshackle army with her.” he shook his head. “In any case, Archdemon or no, Surana is still a Warden and, more importantly, a mage who has been given a noble title.”

“Exactly,” Nicolene nodded. “I don't believe there are any laws against a Warden holding the office of Arling, exactly, but there are laws against mages doing so. It is quite clear to me that King Alistair has used her status as Warden to bypass Chantry regulations about mages.”

“There is still a darkspawn threat,” Cassandra said. “I believe the Wardens are within their rights to do as they see fit, as long as it eliminates that threat.”

Nicolene drummed her fingers on the table. “The Archdemon is dead,” she said. “Adhering to Chantry regulations will not inhibit the elimination of darkspawn. There is no reason Surana could not simply have been assigned as Warden-Commander to the Keep, instead of making her an Arlessa as well.”

“What is it you suggest?” Cassandra said. “Is there some other solution to this problem that you can see?”

“We need to speak to King Alistair,” Nicolene said. “That, first of all. He needs to know that his actions are...inappropriate.”

“He is extremely sympathetic to mages,” Lambert said. “Likely he would hear our complaints and do nothing about them.”

“And in that case, we employ stronger methods.” Nicolene stood up and began to pace. “I believe the Ferelden Gray Wardens are no longer in trustworthy hands,” she said. “The Gray Wardens have long acted with no oversight, and it is quite clear that this is a misstep. If the Ferelden Gray Wardens saw fit to seize power in their own country, how long will it be before Orlesian or Anderfels Wardens do the same? Not to mention that this behavior merely encourages the unrest in the Circle and the Alienages.”

“Allowing the Denerim Alienage a representative in the Landsmeet hardly encouraged unrest,” Cassandra argued, referring to the fact that the Hahren of the Denerim Alienage was given a voice in the Landsmeet recently. “In fact, it seems to have improved things.”

“Can you say the same of the Circles?” Lambert asked. “More apostates than ever, from Calenhad to Ostwick, deserters from the Wardens' army, running off to the Dalish or the Avvar or some vashoth tribe—the Libertarians have certainly been causing trouble.”

“Mm,” Cassandra narrowed her eyes. “That is certainly true.” she looked up at Nicolene. “But—I cannot say this is the fault of the Wardens,” she said. “Nor am I certain that it is our duty to keep the Wardens in check.”

“We are the ones who bring order,” Nicolene said. “What the Wardens appear to be causing is disorder.”

“That is true,” Cassandra agreed. “But surely there is a way to work with them, not against them? It will only cause more chaos if we fight them—and chaos is the last thing Ferelden needs.”

Nicolene hummed in thought.

“It has already gone too far,” Lambert argued. “A mage is already in power—we must stop this before it goes any further.”

“Perhaps if we request that Surana go back to the Circle, or another Warden take her place...” Nicolene said. 

“If the Circle asks for Surana to return, we would have to request that all mage Wardens return to their Circle of origin,” Cassandra said. “They would not agree to that, and it would be foolish to cut down the ranks of the Wardens.”

“Perhaps we _should_ do that,” Lambert said darkly. “The Wardens have had no one keeping them in check for hundreds of years—perhaps someone should. Who better than the Chantry?”

“The Circles don't normally allow many mages to be conscripted into the Gray Wardens,” Nicolene pointed out. “There are only a few prominent mage Wardens as it is. There's Surana, Clarel, Fiona--”

“The apostate that Surana conscripted,” Lambert muttered.

“--him as well, and perhaps only one or two others. It is not as if it would be a great burden on the Wardens to return the mages to the Circles. And, according to Surana and King Alistair, there is no current active Blight, only the darkspawn problem in Amaranthine.”

Cassandra looked dubious. “Lady Seeker, I am not sure...” she admitted. 

“You know as well as I the dangers that occur when a mage is given power,” Nicolene said. 

“The Circles are already somewhat ill at ease,” Cassandra said. “Would this help matters at all? And what if another Archdemon rises?”

“If the Circles are ill at ease, then it is imperative that they know that no one is above the Chantry,” Lambert said. “Not them, and not the Wardens.”

“Alistair was made king without consulting the Chantry,” Nicolene pointed out. “As a matter of fact, no one knew he existed until very recently.” her expression darkened. “Or at least, none of the Ferelden nobility _or_ the Wardens cared to tell us about it, even when he was considered for the Templar Order.”

“And the Wardens blatantly took him out from under Chantry authority,” Lambert said. “How convenient that several years after Alistair is conscripted, a Blight occurs which kills the Ferelden king, leaving the throne to Alistair. A Blight which just so happens to be ended within a year, by a mage.”

“That does seem very suspicious...” Cassandra said. “But I would do nothing drastic. Relations between Orlais and Ferelden are already poor, the Chantry overbearing would make it worse.”

“Then before we do anything drastic, we will look into what has been happening,” Nicolene said. “But I would hardly call it drastic to want to remove a mage from a position of power—if nothing else, the laws surrounding Surana's appointment are...vague.”

Cassandra nodded. “That is true. There are conflicts between the laws about Warden and mage appointment to noble positions—I believe it has caused trouble before.”

“It has,” Lambert muttered. 

“So, we urge King Alistair to appoint someone else as Arl or Arlessa, allowing Surana to remain Warden Commander for now,” Nicolene said. “Then his response will judge what we do next.”

“Hm,” Lambert rumbled. “I believe we should be taking more severe actions. The situation is already getting out of hand--”

“This is not Tevinter, Lambert,” Cassandra cut him off. “We cannot afford to upend everything in the pursuit of destroying a threat that may not even exist.”

“Tevinter once had a Chantry of its own,” Lambert said. “If you will recall.”

“I do recall,” Nicolene said. “And that is precisely why we are doing this—to avoid their missteps. But the situation is already delicate—Ferelden could be plunged into a civil war if we go about this the wrong way.” her lips twisted. “And having the Wardens' ire would not do us any good in the long run.”

Lambert sat back, a dissatisfied expression on his face. “Very well,” he said. “If this is what you wish.”

 

The Orlesians were extremely unhappy to learn of the fate of the Orlesian Wardens. Not for the first time, Alistair wished that Kitranna could be here to field this mess herself. She probably would have made things worse, but she had a way of pushing through this kind of political thing. 

As it was, Anora, Alistair and Fiona were currently meeting with the Orlesian delegates. Fiona was speaking in rapid Orlesian to the foremost ambassador, and Alistair only caught every few words.

In the end, Fiona managed to placate the Orlesians, and assured them that the entire darkspawn problem was being taken care of. The Orlesians weren't happy, but neither did they seem inclined to try and start a fight, so that was progress of a kind. 

“Surana needs to deal with this as soon as she can,” Fiona said after the meeting, shaking her head. 

“She's trying,” Alistair assured her. “She'd cleaned the darkspawn out of Vigil's Keep when I got there.”

“And conscripted three Gray Wardens,” Anora added, her expression troubled. 

“And that, yes.” he looked at Anora. “Is that a problem?”

“Normally, no, but...” Anora glanced at Fiona. “Is infighting common between Wardens of different countries?”

“Not particularly,” Fiona said. 

“Because at the moment, it looks as if the death of the Orlesians was very convenient for the Ferelden Wardens,” Anora said. “Considering that Surana conscripted two Fereldans.”

“Oghren is from Orzammar,” Alistair pointed out. “He's not Fereldan.”

“No, but he _is_ a friend of Surana's.”

Alistair let out a low whistle. “That does look bad,” he said. “But the other Wardens'll understand. Right?” he looked at Fiona, who shrugged.

“The Wardens understand that disasters such as this happen at any time,” she said. “Warden Commander Clarel will not be _happy_ , exactly, but I believe she will understand.”

“It is not the other Wardens I am concerned about,” Anora said. 

“Then who?” Alistair asked.

“The Chantry is sending a Seeker,” Anora said, holding out a letter for the other two to look at. “This arrived this morning.”

“A Seeker?” Alistair took the letter from Anora's outstretched hand. “Seeker Lambert—don't know that one. Mind you, I don't know many Seekers at all.”

“Lambert?” Fiona snatched the letter. “Oh, _enculer_...” she swore. “I know of him. He is the Lady Seeker's second—he returned from Tevinter recently.”

“What are they sending a Seeker for?” Alistair asked. “We certainly aren't Templars...”

“They're concerned about granting Amaranthine to the Wardens,” Anora said. “And about Surana's appointment to Arlessa.”

“Why is that their problem?” Alistair asked. “She's a Warden, Amaranthine belongs to the Wardens, and that's outside Chantry jurisdiction. Or it should be, anyway.”

“It should be,” Fiona said. “But it is likely that the darkspawn attack and the deaths of the Orlesian Wardens put them on edge.” she rubbed her forehead. “And you know as well as I that the Chantry doesn't let mages go easily, even Wardens. Warden-Commander Clarel's appointment caused a few problems as well—but they did not care in the end because Clarel doesn't have the influence Surana does.”

“Will this be a problem for you?” Anora asked Fiona. 

Fiona's mouth twisted. “It may be,” she said. “We will have to see.”

 

Amaranthine was a large city, almost the size of Denerim. Despite this, it wasn't hard to find where Kristoff had been staying—people tended to remember a man who had gone around that heavily armed. 

It turned out that Kristoff had headed for the Blackmarsh, south of Amaranthine. They would have to double back to Vigil's Keep to get there. 

When they arrived back at Vigil's Keep, Kitranna was informed that there was another problem she should look into—the only reliable trade route between Amaranthine and Denerim was getting attacked, by whom, no one had any idea. Kitranna added that to her list of things that needed to be done, which was lengthening by the hour.

On top of that, some of the missives form Denerim were starting to take a rather alarming tone. A Seeker of Truth was coming from Val Royeaux, for what purpose exactly wasn't quite clear, but it was pretty clear that the Chantry wasn't happy about the recent goings-on. The Seeker would go to Denerim first, but it was possible that he would visit Vigil's Keep as well.

“That's just the last thing we need,” Kitranna gritted upon learning this news.

“A Seeker of Truth?” Nathaniel looked troubled. “I think I've heard of that Order before, but never met one...”

“You wouldn't have,” Anders said. “You're not a Templar. Usually that's the only thing they care about—they're supposed to regulate them.” his mouth twisted. “They don't do a wonderful job, of course, but what can you expect?”

“What do they have to to with us?” Oghren demanded. 

“Not sure,” Kitranna said, looking over the note Alistair had sent. “I think they just want to stick their nose in where it doesn't belong.”

“That, and you're a mage who's in charge of an Arling,” Anders said. “Don't think that'd make them too happy.”

“Yeah, probably not.”


	3. Night And Morning With My Tears

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's time for the blackmarsh!
> 
> don't forget to comment if you enjoyed it--or heck, even if you didn't
> 
> did the children remind anyone else a bit of taxxons or is it just me?
> 
> side note; the spirit-baroness can't actually use blood magic, nor is anyone's physical body in the fade. she's just busting a hole in the veil while acting like it's blood magic, and because she's taken on the baronesses' form and thoughts, that's how it seems to her

The Blackmarsh was absolutely miserable, as marshes tended to be. It was rainy when they arrived, wet and vile. Kitranna could feel darkspawn nearby, like a presence at the back of her head. The others could feel them too. 

“My father used to tell me stories about the Blackmarsh when I was young,” Nathaniel said quietly as they walked through the muck. “He said evil magic killed everyone here. This was just before the rebellion, so it was a great mystery.”

“Hm,” Kitranna said. 

“Would that be your father who liked torturing people?” Anders asked.

Nathaniel sighed heavily and didn't answer him. 

“I've heard a little bit about it,” Kitranna said. “Remember, Anders? There's stories about monsters and things here. And the Veil is...wrong.”

“That's true,” Anders agreed. “Feels thin enough that corpses might start getting up again.”

“That can happen?” Nathaniel asked, alarmed.

“Oh, yes.”

“I used to dream of coming here and setting things right,” Nathaniel mused. “Little boy dreams.”

“You're here now, aren't you?” Anders said. 

“So I am.”

“Though whether we fix anything or not remains to be seen, so, there's that.”

They continued on, until they found several darkspawn corpses, all slashed with a blade.

“Dead,” Oghren kicked the darkspawn corpse closest to him. “It'd be that Kristoff's doing, I s'pose.”

“That answers that,” Anders said. “At least we're on the right track.”

“Could be,” Kitranna said. “But it's not certain.” she peered down at the corpse. “C'mon, let's keep going.”

There were werewolves in the swamp, Blighted and sick, that attacked them on sight. 

“Don't tell me there's a werewolf curse on _this_ place too!” Kitranna exclaimed after the dispatched an attacking wolf. She kicked the wolf's corpse. “I don't want to have to deal with that on top of everything else.”

“You've encountered werewolves before?” Nathaniel asked.

Kitranna nodded. “Yeah—in the Brecelian, during the Blight. It was a pain in the ass to fix.”

“It might not be a curse,” Anders pointed out as they continued along. “There might be a tear in the Veil somewhere—it could be changing everything nearby.”

Kitranna nodded. “...I suppose that's possible...” she mused. “The longer and worse the damage to the Veil, the weirder everything gets around it, right?”

“And the Blackmarsh has been haunted for years,” Nathaniel said. “If that is truly caused by damage to the Veil...”

“We're lucky the place isn't already overrun by spirits,” Anders said. 

They did come across a place where the Veil was split open, the air itself leaking magic. It made everyone feel slightly sick and dizzy, except for Oghren. 

“That would be where the werewolves are coming from,” Anders said, looking green.

“Is there something you can do to fix it?” Kitranna asked. “You're the spirit healer here.”

“Not my area of expertise,” Anders said. “Probably best to just leave it alone for now.”

Kitranna grimaced. “No wonder they abandoned this place.”

They found Kristoff's body near the edge of the marsh. He was identifiable by the Warden plate he wore, and the pool of blood under him made it clear that he hadn't died very long ago.

“Great,” Kitranna said, putting her hands on her hips as she looked down at him. “Perfect. Now everyone from Vigil's Keep is dead, and the Orlesians are going to be even more pissed. Wonderful.”

“Commander...” Nathaniel said. “Tell me I am not the only one sensing darkspawn...”

“You're not,” Kitranna said. “They're definitely here.”

“Yes,” came a guttural and creaking voice, and they turned to see a contingent of darkspawn approach them. “Yes, we are here, and that is your Gray Warden.”

The darkspawn was roughly the height of a human, with a flat, pale face and long teeth. He approached Kitranna, peering at her with enormous, gleaming black eyes. “The Mother told it to me that if he was lured to this place, and slain, then you would come here in time.”

“A trap,” Anders shook his head with a sigh. “Wonderful. What a lovely afternoon this is turning out to be.”

“And the Mother, she was right,” the darkspawn said, grinning. “She is always right.”

“Who's the Mother?” Kitranna asked. “Never heard of that one before.”

“The Mother, she is no prophet, but she is clever, that she is.”

“That's not an answer.”

“I am not here to give you answers. Here before you is the First, and I am bringing to you a message.”

“And why exactly does this Mother think I want to hear anything a darkspawn has to say?”

“You are not having a choice. The Mother, she is not permitting you to further his plan, whether you are knowing or not. So she is sending a gift.”

The darkspawn held out his hand, and before anyone could do anything, the Veil shattered around them, and everything vanished.

When everything came together again, the sky was bright, and a vague greenish shade. The darkspawn was still there.

“No...” it croaked, confused. “We have come to the Fade as well? It cannot be this!”

“Oh, what a surprise, a spell to tear open the Veil backfired,” Kitranna growled. “Everyone alright?” she asked her companions.

“Very confused, but fine,” Anders said. 

“Good.” Kitranna turned on the darkspawn. “So...you want to give me an explanation before I get out my sword?”

“The Mother...she has deceived me! I am betrayed!”

“Yeah, I don't care.” Kitranna yanked her sword off her back, and it thrummed with magic. “An explanation, thanks.”

“I am finding my own path back to the world,” the First said with a dismissive wave. “I am leaving you to the Children.”

“Wait!” Kitranna snapped, but the First paid no attention, and the aforementioned Children advanced upon them. The Children were massive, revolting maggot-like animals with the faces of babies. They burst when struck and made horrible screeching noises as they attacked, their mouths filled with needle-sharp teeth. By the time they dispatched the Children, the First was long gone.

Kitranna propped her hands on her hips. “Great,” she sighed. “This is just perfect.”

Anders came up next to her, leaning heavily on his staff and panting hard. Oghren and Nathaniel weren't out of breath, but both of them were pale and looked somewhat alarmed. 

“We need to get out of here,” Anders said. 

“Don't need to tell me twice,” Kitranna growled. “If we stay here too long, our bodies will die.” she cracked her knuckles.

“Personally, I'd like to know who this 'Mother' is, and why she worked so hard to entrap us,” Nathaniel said. “What is her quarrel with us?”

“Since when does a darkspawn need a reason?” Kitranna waved a hand, and the group began walking.

“I want to know where a darkspawn learned a spell like that,” Anders said. “They're not demons—I've never heard of any of them sending people into the Fade.”

“Neither have I,” Kitranna said. “Even the emissaries don't do anything like that. They stick to pretty basic elemental magic, strictly offensive.” she shuddered. “Ugh—I can feel demons everywhere here. Anders?”

Anders nodded. “There's definitely a lot of nasty things about,” he agreed. “But that was already the case. It's nothing new.”

“So, how are we gonna get out of here?” Oghren demanded. “Any ideas?”

“Wander around until I can find something I can punch and escape,” Kitranna said. “I don't know what spell the First used, so I can't work backwards.”

“We could try and find a helpful spirit,” Anders suggested.

“You see many of those around here?”

“There's bound to be one or two, especially because the Veil is so thin. Maybe there's a Curiosity spirit or something.”

“Well, then it's your job to keep an eye out.”

The sky over the marsh was light, almost a green shade, and the Black City hovered far in the distance overhead. The marsh was rife with demons, all of varying strengths, most hostile and none attempting to engage in a dialogue of any kind—behavior most unusual for demons.

In the center of the marsh was the dream of an enormous building that in the physical world was mere ruins.

“Figure that's important,” Anders said, looking at it.

“No, really? Who could have guessed.” Kitranna said.

The back gate to the mansion wasn't open, and something nasty waited inside regardless, so they went around to one side. Around the side was a small graveyard, where a woman fussed with one of the headstones. 

She noticed them and turned, peering at them. “You...you're not a spirit like everyone else. How did you get here?”

“Accident,” Kitranna said. 

“What manner of accident brings you here?”

“I wouldn't call it an accident,” Nathaniel interjected. 

“Alright, but what else do I say?” Kitranna demanded. “'A talking darkspawn waylaid us on an errand I already hate to do?'”

“You were forced to come here?” the woman asked. “That's very strange.”

Kitranna looked at the woman, her eyes narrowed. “How's that?”

“This is where my grandfather's ashes are buried,” the woman explained. “I come to visit him often.”

“This is the Fade,” Anders said, his brow furrowed. “Nothing's buried here. Well—I suppose the dream of something could be buried.”

Kitranna felt something at the back of her head—something wasn't right about the woman.

“Yeah, I'm not buying it,” Kitranna said. “Unless you have some actual answers for us, I think we should just get going.”

The woman stared at them as they went around the corner, but she didn’t follow.

They came to the echo of the ruins of the town that was in the Marsh in the physical world. It was crowded with people, but none of them saw Kitranna and her group walk among them. When pressed, the people said strange things that had nothing to do with what was happening around them, as if they were all caught in their own dreams. 

The mansion that was a rotted husk in the physical world was intact here, and it only grew clearer the closer they got. It was huge and very grand, a great deal of magic caught inside it. 

They came to the front gate of the mansion. A crowd gathered at the gate, shapes of people with misty edges, some more solid than others. At the head of the crowd was a spirit who glowed brilliantly, clad in shining armor. 

The spirit spotted them. “And who comes now?” he demanded. “More minions of the Baroness, or more helpless souls she has tormented?”

“Neither,” Kitranna said. “We're here because of a darkspawn. You know anything about that?”

“I could not say what a darkspawn is,” the spirit said. “But it is clear you are a stranger here. Perhaps it is a sign...”

“A sign of what?” Anders asked.

“I could not say yet. I am Justice. I have watched this place and seen the wrongs visited upon these poor folk, and now I seek to aid them.”

One of the people, a woman with red hair whose edges were blurred, stepped forward. “Once we lived in the real world,” she explained. “The Baroness ruled over us. She took our children and used their blood for dark and evil magic.”

“We burned down her mansion,” said another man. “But she cast one final spell that left all our spirits trapped here, and we've been here ever since.”

“Nathaniel, do you know about any Baroness who ruled here?” Kitranna asked.

Nathaniel frowned and shook his head. “I know of no such a person, but the marsh has been abandoned for some time, and I do not make a habit of studying it.”

Kitranna brushed her thumb across the hilt of her sword. “Right,” she said. “I don't like the sounds of any of that.”

“Will you help us in this righteous task?” Justice asked, his voice eager. “Your aid would be most appreciated.”

“Anything that gets us out of this pit faster,” Kitranna growled. “And its sounds like this Baroness woman might be able to help with that.”

“My intention is to storm the gate,” Justice explained.

“Sounds like a plan to me,” Oghren said, he and Kitranna exchanging a look. 

“It sure does,” Kitranna agreed. “Come on, then, bash it down. Or do you want me to do it for you?”

Justice did so, slamming into the gate with enormous force and bashing it in. Inside the courtyard, one could sense a large multitude of demons, and the Veil warping and twisting and thin. 

The Baroness came out onto a balcony overhead, flanked by the twisted shapes of a pair of Despair demons. She had the shape of a tall human woman with long black hair, wearing an ornate red gown. Her gown and face both shifted slightly as one watched, their shapes changing just a bit.

“My, my,” she said with a disapproving shake of her head. “All that shouting, and now you just decide to barge in? Without even a proper invitation?”

“Proud sorceress!” Justice called. “You will release this poor people and submit yourself to justice!”

“Justice?” the woman sneered. “Is that what you're calling it? What about their punishment, for burning my home to the ground and me within it?”

“Because you were--” one of the civilians began, before Kitranna cut him off.

“Alright, I've had enough of this,” she said. She pointed at the Baroness. “If you're dead, you're not the Baroness, just a spirit who looks like her. So please get a hold of yourself and stop whatever it is that's mucking up the Veil around here.”

“Probably a spell that backfired,” Anders said thoughtfully. “Could be she damaged the Veil somehow and called these spirits here—then something exploded, everyone died, and now we have all these spirits who think they're people here.”

“That can happen?” Nathaniel asked.

“It's a lot more likely than her managing to drag all of the townsfolk's actual spirits here, _while_ she was dead.”

“Everything here is like—a dream,” Kitranna said. “A trick.” she came to a sudden, horrible realization. “The longer we spend here, the weaker our bodies get,” she said. “This is just—a trap. A distraction.” she narrowed her eyes. “We shouldn't be here. There must be another way to get out.”

“And how exactly would we do that?” Nathaniel asked.

“I don't know,” Kitranna snapped, and then another figure stepped out beside the Baroness. The First, looking the same as ever, had joined her.

“Oh, and what are you doing here?” Kitranna demanded.

“My path lies in victory over you and your allies,” the First explained. “Then the Mother will pay for her treachery!”

“That's not how this works,” Kitranna snarled. “Maybe _you_ mucked up your Mother's spell and got here by accident, if you know this little about how the Fade works!”

The First scowled. “You are knowing nothing,” he said. He turned to the Baroness. “We must be ending this now—the Gray Warden is more dangerous than you know!”

“A lot more dangerous,” Kitranna hissed, raising her sword.

“As you wish,” the Baroness said, her tone dull as if this entire charade bored her. “Deal with them and then you may have your request granted.”

“Enough!” Justice raised a mace that had not been there before. “The battle is joined!” Justice vanished from their sides to appear next to the Baroness, and they began fighting in earnest.

Kitranna went for the first while her allies helped the spirits of the townspeople fight back against the Baroness' demons.

The First bore a two-handed sword, and was tireless but very slow and clumsy, as if he were not quite used to coordinating his body. Kitranna dealt with him quickly, keeping him trapped in ice, and then assisted her friends in finishing off the rest of the demons. 

When many of the demons had vanished, defeated, the Baroness let out a shout of rage.

“You fool!” she cried out to the First. “Why haven't you defeated them?”

“They are too much,” the First croaked, breathing heavily. “You must be sending me back through the Veil now, before it is too late!”

The Baroness sneered. “Oh, I will send them all back,” she said. “Out of my business! But your life shall be providing the power!”

“No!” the first exclaimed, but the Baroness raised her arms, and blood poured from the First's many wounds. The Veil rippled and the Fade warped, and then--

 

Kitranna opened her eyes. She was on the ground, a root digging into her shoulder. She pushed herself onto her elbows, and found her companions were all sitting up as well, groaning and grumbling.

“Everyone alright?” she asked.

“Fine, fine,” Anders grumbled, getting to his feet and dusting off his robes. “Just how I wanted to spend my evening.”

“I am well,” Nathaniel said. He looked over Kitranna's shoulder, his eyes wide. “Warden-Commander...”

Kitranna turned around. The body of Kristoff was slowly standing up as well, stumbling on its armor-clad legs.

“Oh, wonderful,” Kitranna grumbled, and got out her weapon, but stopped when the corpse spoke.

“Where am I?” it croaked, confused. It turned, and she saw its eyes were wide and milky white. “What is happening?” its gaze alighted on Kitranna and her companions. “No...this is the world of mortals.”

“Is it supposed to be somewhere else?” Kitranna asked.

“I am beyond the Veil...” Kristoff's body said, and it began to touch its face in horror. “A mortal body of flesh—I am trapped within!”

Kitranna peered at him closely, and it was Anders who recognized him first.

“Justice!” he said. “That's Justice—how'd you get in there?”

“The Baroness sundered the Veil in her haste!” Justice exclaimed. “All of us were drawn through—you are lucky that it is I who inhabits this body, and not a demon!” he shook his head. “She has returned to this realm as well—can you not feel it?”

Kitranna wrinkled her nose. “Something definitely damaged the Veil,” she agreed.

“Damaged?” Anders said. “More like blew a hole in the damn thing—I'm getting a headache just standing here.”

“Definitely feels weird,” Oghren pointed out. “And that's...pretty bad, right?”

“Considering that you're a dwarf, yes, it's pretty bad,” Anders said.

Kitranna pinched the bridge of her nose. “Great,” she said. “So now we have some kind of demon on the loose.”

“A demon of pride,” Justice explained. “She assumed that role long ago to feed on the mortals whose memory she trapped.”

“And the First gave her the way to the physical world,” Kitranna said.

“Exactly so...though I am uncertain how,” Justice screwed up his face in frustration.

“Yeah, I was wondering about that too,” Kitranna said. “It wasn't like he was there physically. How'd she use blood magic to do anything?” she chewed her lip. “Though blood magic would explain the damage...”

Anders sighed. “Blood magic and the Veil...always a nasty combination.”

“Isn't blood magic a bad thing in general?” Nathaniel asked.

“Yes, usually, but it can also be rather...explosive...when used against the Veil.”

“This is not the time for this discussion,” Justice snapped. “We must repair the damage to the Veil and deal with the Baroness, quickly!”

Kitranna waved a hand. “Yeah, of course, I know,” she said. “Come on, then,” she urged her companions. “Let's get going.”

The sky overhead was pale gray with the approaching dawn, but it held no greenish shade. Around them the world was much more solid, even if the damage to the Veil made everything feel strange and uncomfortable. 

Justice moved clumsily, not used to being in a body. He frequently tripped and stumbled, and besides that, Kristoff's body reeked of decay. 

“Are you sure you're in a fit state to fight?” Anders asked him. 

“I am fine,” Justice growled. 

“I'm a little worried some piece of you is going to fall off, that's all.”

“I am perfectly well.”

“Because, I'm a healer and all, but my skills are a little but useless after death.”

“And here I was thinkin' you didn't have any useful skills at all, 'cept a smart mouth,” Oghren jibed. 

Anders rolled his eyes. “I don't think anyone asked you for your opinion,” he retorted.

“Since when does anyone need t' ask?”

They found the Baroness wandering the ruins of the mansion, in the place where the Veil was weakest. The Baroness looked different in the physical world—it seemed she, like Justice, had found a dead body to inhabit. Her skin was rotted through, her eyes were milky white, and she was utterly emaciated, but she seemed not to care.

“So this is the world of mortals...how very dull it seems.” the Baroness walked forward, not being the slightest bit dampened by the falling rain. “So immutable and unchanging.” she tilted her head up as she surveyed them. “Yet I am here—I have crossed the Veil! The spirits will watch in envy as the mortals of this world bow down before me!”

“That will not happen,” Justice promised.

“So it seems I am not the only one to be drawn here,” as they watched, the Baroness' body grew more solid, the flesh rejuvenating, the skin becoming clear again--but it was only an illusion. Whenever she moved, the picture of health shifted, revealing the corpse underneath. “How very tiresome.”

Kitranna stepped forward. “You could go back to the Fade now and spare us all a lot of trouble,” she said. “One chance.”

The Baroness tilted her head up. “You think you can command me? One girl with old blood, challenge me?”

“I've fought bigger,” Kitranna smirked, and held up her sword. 

The Baroness raised her arms, and her shape shifted, her eyes multiplying and her form growing. Horns sprouted from her head, and lightning crackled about her body. 

They fought, and the Baroness fell. 

“And so, it is done,” Justice said, looking down at the body of the Baroness, before it burst into sparks and was gone. “For what it is worth, thank you. I have fulfilled my vow. May the victims of that woman's madness rest in peace.”

“What are you going to do now?” Kitranna asked. “I see you're still here.”

Justice began to pace. “It seems I cannot return to the Fade,” he said. “I am trapped here, in the body of this...Gray Warden?”

“We could just kill your body,” Kitranna offered, ignoring Anders' glare. “I'm sure you'd go back to the Fade then.”

“This body is already dead,” Justice said. “Attempting to damage it further would do little good. I am no demon, driven mad by flesh or wood—I am firmly affixed here. I do not wish to die.”

“Hm,” Kitranna put a hand on her hip. “That's an issue.”

“There are...memories, the echoes of memories in this man's head,” Justice said, tapping the side of his skull. “He was...a Gray Warden? Slain by the darkspawn?”

“That sounds about right, yeah.”

“The one called the First...and that was your pursuit, that resulted in you entering the Fade, yes, I understand now.”

“That's great,” Kitranna said, rubbing her forehead. “Well, we have to get a move on soon—what do you want to do?”

“I—do not know,” Justice said. “I know nothing of this world. You seem to be a creature of reasonable character, and you are of this world. Can you advise me?”

“Try to go back to the Fade,” Kitranna said immediately.

“Hang on a minute, Surana,” Anders said. Both Justice and Kitranna looked at him.

“What?” Kitranna asked.

“Couldn't he come with us?”

“Why?”

“Why not? And anyway, if you wanted to go back to the Fade somehow, a spirit healer's the best chance you'd have of figuring that out,” he told Justice.

“Continue this man's work of being a Gray Warden?” Justice asked. “It...was a darkspawn who killed this man, most ignobly. An the ones who do it yet live.”

“Sure, why not?” Kitranna threw up her hands. “I don't know, maybe if you join up we'll have another half-decent swordsman with us. Maker only knows you're probably an improvement on the last tenant in that body.” she shook her head. “Come on,” Kitranna said. “I've had enough of this swamp.”


	4. And I Sunned It In Smiles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lambert is kind of a huge dick and i'm always disappointed that in canon he only appears in asunder

Seeker Lambert's arrival in Denerim was quiet and unremarkable, as befitted a Seeker. He went through no mediaries and immediately had an audience with Anora and Alistair, who met with him promptly.

“Greetings, Seeker Lambert,” Anora said. 

“Your Majesties,” Lambert said. “A pleasure.”

Alistair leaned forward in his chair. “Can we cut the small talk?” he asked. “I want to know what this is about.”

Lambert nodded. “To put it shortly, the Chantry is concerned about the activities of the Wardens in Ferelden.”

“And how's that?”

“You gave a mage a title, for one,” Lambert said. “That flagrantly abuses the laws of the Chantry.”

“Amaranthine is under Warden jurisdiction, and as Surana's a Warden, that means she can be Arlessa _and_ be a mage.”

Lambert's mouth twisted. “And you honestly believe the authority of the Wardens ranks above that of the Chantry?”

“The Chantry and the Wardens have no part of each other,” Alistair insisted. “It's not about who has authority over who. She's a Warden, which means she's not part of the Circle anymore.”

Lambert pinched the bridge of his nose. “The laws are very vague about where Chantry jurisdiction ends and where Warden authority begins,” he said. “I am willing to grant you this. But there are other concerns as well.”

“Such as?” Anora asked.

“Every other Blight took many, many years to end. This one is supposedly over in under a year.” Lambert looked at them. “You find nothing unusual about this?”

“Since when are Blights the business of the Chantry?” Alistair challenged.

“When the Wardens became involved with the Circles and the royal family of Ferelden,” Lambert said, unphased. “This becomes our concern when you ally with the Circle of Magi, and a Circle mage gains a noble title and holdings. The Chantry would be concerned about the Blight in any case, but under the circumstances--”

“The Chantry has no hold over the internal workings of Ferelden,” Anora said. “And regardless of whether Warden-Commander Surana is a mage or not, she is foremost a Warden, and not under Chantry jurisdiction.”

“What prompted this investigation, anyway?” Alistair asked. “I didn't see the Chantry intervening when Loghain was about to start a civil war.”

“That involved no mages. This does.” Lambert leaned forward. “And it concerns everyone when the Wardens start overstepping their bounds.”

Alistair raised his eyebrows. “When have we done that?”

“Placing a Warden on the throne of Ferelden, for one, after failing to protect the previous king.”

Alistair scowled, and Anora placed a hand on his forearm.

“What are you saying, Seeker?” Anora asked. 

“Here is what the Chantry sees, Your Majesty,” Lambert said, his face stony. “The first Blight for hundreds of years emerges, and is stopped in under a year by a novice enchanter. Immediately afterwards, a Warden King is placed on the throne of Ferelden, conveniently claiming the title of Maric's heir. Then, Warden-Commander Surana is appointed lands and a title, despite being both a Warden—who are supposed to be apolitical—and a mage. You understand our concerns, don't you? The Divine, Empress Celene, and Lady Seeker Nicolene are all extremely concerned about where this path leads.”

“What path?” Alistair demanded. “I'm not sure if you noticed, but we had to make sure Loghain didn't cause a civil war--”

“Yes,” Anora cut across. “My father was entirely willing to disregard the Blight out of his own paranoia about Orlais. As such, we needed to take drastic action.”

“But the Blight is over, is it not?” Lambert raised an eyebrow. “The Wardens should be retreating from political influence, not becoming more involved—especially Surana.”

“The Blight's over, but that doesn't mean there's no more darkspawn,” Alistair said. “We still need Wardens—maybe moreso than ever.”

Lambert looked at him sharply. “And why is that?”

“We were caught unprepared at the beginning of this Blight,” Alistair said. “We only narrowly avoided all of Ferelden getting overrun. I won't risk that happening again.”

“Really?” Lambert leaned forward in his seat. “So why is it that it took _one_ novice enchanter—again, Warden-Commander Surana had only been an enchanter for a short time before being conscripted—to kill the Archdemon? A feat which, in the past, has taken years and hundreds of Wardens to do?”

Alistair leaned back in his chair and shrugged. “Don't know what to tell you there. She's just that good.”

Lambert pursed his lips. “Is she?”

Both Anora and Alistair peered at him. 

“I saw it myself,” Alistair said. “Her killing the Archdemon, I mean.”

“Are you aware of the current unrest in the Circles?” Lambert asked, veering the conversation in another direction entirely. 

“A bit, yes,” Alistair said. “They're not exactly happy.”

Lambert nodded. “And do you know that there is magic capable of controlling dragons? Surely you know of the dragon attack on Divine Beatrix that was thwarted some years ago.”

Anora and Alistair exchanged a look. 

“Seeker Lambert,” Alistair said with a sigh. “What exactly is it that the Chantry wants here?”

“Hm,” Lambert hummed in thought. “We have yet to come to a conclusion. All we know is that the circumstances of the Blight, compounded with the recent attack on Vigil's Keep has made the Chantry very...concerned.”

“You have expressed this,” Anora said. “As has the Orlesian ambassador.”

Lambert inclined his head. “As well she should. However my concerns—or rather, those of the Chantry—lie more in the people making the decisions than those decisions themselves.” he knit his fingers together. “If nothing else, you should remove Surana from a position of nobility. It sets a poor precedent when a mage is made a noble.”

“And what happens if we don't do that?” Alistair asked. “There'd be no one in charge of the Amaranthine arling then.”

“I am sure you could appoint someone,” Lambert said. “This isn't a threat, your Majesties,” he said, his tone smooth and neutral. “The Chantry does not deal in threats. We inform of consequences. And the consequences of a mage noble will be even more unrest in the Circles, more friction between the mages and Templars, and between the more extreme mages and the established government.”

“She's a _Warden_ ,” Alistair repeated. “Technically, she's not even a part of the Circle anymore.”

“No mage has ever held any kind of office in the South outside of the Circles, Warden or no,” Lambert said. Not as far as he knew, of course, but Alistair didn't need to know that. “No mage has ever held noble office. The only country to appoint a mage to that position is Tevinter.” Lambert raised an eyebrow.

“Are you suggesting that because one mage Warden has been made a noble, Ferelden will suddenly turn into Tevinter?” Anora asked.

“I am saying that having a mage as a noble, as well as the close alliance with the Dalish and Orzammar and the recent vanquishing of the Blight are all ingredients for an extremely volatile outcome, and you would do well to mediate that.” Lambert leaned forward. “The Chantry enforces order, Your Majesties. If you cannot or will not enforce order, then we will.”

“Are you seriously saying you want to fight us?” Alistair asked, half-laughing. “Now?”

“It is not a fight if your entire royal family is excommunicated.” Lambert said. 

The blood drained out of Anora's face. 

“You would excommunicate the Theirin line over one mage?” she demanded. “That could cause another civil war!”

“Are you willing to risk that over one mage?” Lambert retorted. “The solution is simple; take the title of Arlessa from Surana and give it to someone more fitting—not a mage, and not a Warden.”

Alistair and Anora looked at each other. 

“We need to speak,” Anora said. “Alone.”

Lambert inclined his head. “As you wish.”

Once they were left alone, Alistair immediately stood up and began to pace.

“I told you,” Anora muttered. “Surana didn't even want the appointment—if you had put someone else in charge of Amaranthine--”

“They would have conflicted with the Wardens at the Keep,” Alistair snapped, and shook his head. “And—well—she saved Ferelden! She deserves something like that.”

“It's not about what anyone deserves,” Anora said. She rubbed her forehead and got to her feet. “We need to tell Fiona,” she said. “If the Chantry is unhappy with Surana I am sure they will be unhappy with Fiona next--”

“Do you think we should tell Queen Aeducan?” Alistair said. 

“Why?”

“She's been sheltering mages,” it was true. Apart from Jowan, several other mages in the king's army had slipped the Templars' leash and run to Orzammar. Culwydd had no problem with it, and considered it a good thing, as she felt immigrants encouraged contact with the surface. 

“Orzammar supplies the Chantry with lyrium,” Anora reminded him. “They would never do anything that might interfere with the supply lines.”

“What about Keeper Lanaya? Should we let her know? The Dalish have had a lot more trouble with the Chantry than Orzammar--”

Anora nodded. “I can send a missive, quietly, and let them know.” she scowled. “I don't care how many apostates they have in their numbers—they defended Denerim, they should at least know what's happening.”

Alistair nodded and ran a hand over his face. “Lambert'll probably talk to other nobles and just about anyone he can find,” he said. “I'll go warn Fiona and get a letter written to Surana. She should know about this too.”

 

Fiona was not surprised when Alistair told her about the situation. She sighed. “I was afraid of this.”

“You thought that this could happen?” Alistair asked in surprise.

Fiona nodded. “Any time a mage gains power, it frightens the Chantry. It's even worse because of the disaster at Calenhad, and I'm sure they think the Wardens are pulling a coup.”

“Does the Archdemon mean nothing to them?” Alistair asked, frustrated.

“Most likely it does not,” Fiona said. “They are probably concocting some sort of conspiracy to explain the whole thing—since the Archdemon never attacked Orlais, and no Seeker was here when it attacked Denerim, they technically have no evidence that it even happened.”

“And the body's gone,” Alistair groaned.

“The body is gone.”

They had burnt the body of the Archdemon after it had been killed, as it had been riddled with poisonous Taint, and would have passed the disease on were it not destroyed. They scattered the bones, which were also diseased. 

Alistair rubbed his forehead. “Lambert probably won't be happy that you're here instead of at Weisshaupt,” he said.

Fiona closed her eyes. “That's true,” she agreed. “I have no reason to be here—there's no darkspawn incursion. He'll want to know what I'm still doing here. My presence just makes it look even more as if the Wardens are attempting to control the Ferelden government.”

Alistair groaned. “I _knew_ making me King was a bad idea,” he shook his head. “If Anora was in charge--”

“It may have happened anyway,” Fiona said, her expression troubled. “Either way, it doesn't matter now.”

“What are you going to do?”

Fiona paused. “I could go to Vigil's Keep,” she said. “And assist Surana...I feel as if she will need it.”

“But...?”

“But there is likely going to be added scrutiny placed on Vigil's Keep, and even more Wardens being there would...perhaps not be healthy.”

“But there's a darkspawn problem there—and you're Orlesian, it would probably make the Orlesians happy--”

“I am also a mage, which would make them less happy.” she sighed and leaned back in her seat. “I'll have to go back to Weisshaupt,” she decided. 

“Are you sure?” Alistair asked. “I could try and get rid of Lambert--”

“More Seekers would come,” Fiona told him, waving a hand. “I am...sorry,” she said quietly. “I do not wish to part ways again. But my being here will attract uncomfortable scrutiny.”

Alistair nodded. “I know,” he admitted. “I know.”

 

Kitranna and the rest of her people returned to Vigil's keep grumpy and covered in mud. Some people stared at Justice as they walked through the Keep, but one look at Kitranna's face stopped anyone from making any comments.

Varel met Kitranna before she'd so much as had time to remove her armor.

“Warden-Commander,” Varel said quietly. “There's a missive from the king for you.”

“Yeah?” Kitranna took the paper. “What is it?”

“I did not read it.” he looked worried, a frown between his brows. “Did you find Kristoff?”

Kitranna shook her head. “No—just his body,” she nodded towards Justice, who was having a quiet, rumbling conversation with Nathaniel. 

Varel stared at Justice for a minute, then shook his head. “Magic,” he muttered.

“Oh, yes indeed.” Kitranna opened the missive and scanned it quickly.

 

_Surana,  
The Chantry's on our back about your appointment as Arlessa, and is getting antsy about the Wardens in general. Fiona's gone back to Weisshaupt, and you might want to look out for any Seekers or Templars who might want to come and see what's going on. May have to make someone else Arl of Amaranthine, otherwise the Chantry will take drastic action. We're stalling them as best we can, but I don't think we can do it forever._

_Watch your back._

_-Alistair Theirin_

 

Kitranna scowled.

“Problem, Commander?” Varel asked. 

Kitranna nodded. “Some trouble with the Chantry,” she said. “Probably gonna muck up everything around here for a bit.”

Varel sighed. “That is exactly what we needed...”

“It sure is,” Kitranna growled. She clenched the letter in her hand. “Anything happen while we were gone?”

Varel shook his head. “Nothing of particular note happened here, though two ambassadors from your alliances arrived, and there are two hunters who may have useful information for you. One of the dwarves doing repairs wants to see you as well.”

“Why's that?” Kitranna asked, walking out of the main hall, Varel following close behind her.

“The darkspawn attack left the Keep with a number of vulnerabilities,” Varel explained. “And the dwarf believes we are right over a complex of Deep Roads tunnels.”

“Maker's tits,” Kitranna hissed. “What else?”

“Our walls are badly damaged. The dwarf—Voldrick—believes he can repair them, but the darkspawn problem is the one he's most worried about.”

“I would be too. Seriously? The Keep's built over Deep Roads?”

Varel shrugged. “The Keep is very old, and the Deep Roads run all the way to the Wilds," he said. “The older a building is, the more likely it was used as some kind of stop during the dwarven empire.”

“Makes sense,” Kitranna shook her head. “Alright—tell Voldrick I'll meet him as soon as I can, but right now, I need to get some cursed sleep before anything else happens.” she snapped her fingers. “Oh—you said a pair of hunters had some information for me?”

Varel nodded. “Apparently, they found an open Deep Roads entrance,” he said. “And a cave full of active darkspawn, very close to the surface.”

“Great,” Kitranna hissed. “Where is this entrance?”

“I can mark it on a map for you—it isn't far from here, but nothing is blocking it, and there are farms and a village nearby. It should be dealt with as quickly as possible.”

“And what about the Deep Roads tunnels under the Keep?” Kitranna chewed her lip. “I don't want to be caught unprepared like the last time.”

“We are far more prepared than any villagers,” Varel reminded her. 

“Barely.”

“Warden-Commander, this Deep Roads Entrance hadn't been seen before,” he insisted. “There's no mention of even ruins in the same area—it would seem that the darkspawn have been digging, and not just here.”

Kitranna sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Alright,” she said. “Alright. I'll do what I can.”

Kitranna only had a bare six hours of sleep before she awoke, being needed again. She met with Voldrick the dwarf and gave him leave both to repair the walls and do something about the tunnels underneath Vigil's Keep. 

Justice was settling in alright, apart from frightening the daylights out of passerby, but Nathaniel and Anders were on edge. Kitranna couldn't do much about that until they were out in the field again, which would have to wait for at least a day while Kitranna got everything in order.

Kitranna also met with a representative from the Circle who had arrived while Kitranna was in the Blackmarsh, a woman named Cera.

“Enchanter Cera,” Kitranna said with a relieved smile. “Nice to see you.”

Cera smiled back. “The Circle sent me as an ambassador,” she said. “We want to keep our relations with the Wardens healthy, even though the Archdemon is dead.”

“Thanks for that,” Kitranna inclined her head. “How is the Circle right now?”

“Calenhad is still rebuilding,” Cera said with a grimace. “And we are making some progress, but...”

“What is it?”

“There has been some...rumbling...from the Chantry.”

Kitranna closed her eyes. “I know,” she said. “The King sent me a missive—the Seekers have an eye on Denerim--”

Cera nodded. “Yes, and the Templars are getting restless,” she said. “Your appointment here did nothing to ease their worry, especially after they lost track of many mages after the battle in Denerim.”

“I'd heard that,” Kitranna said. “Leaving for the Dalish, or Orzammar, right?”

“Yes, exactly,” Cera confirmed. “And when you recruited Anders into the Wardens--”

“I was well within my rights to do that, which they should damn well be aware of,” Kitranna snapped.

“I know, Warden-Commander, but Anders is a spirit healer, and one with a history of defiance to the Circle,” Cera said. “There's some feeling that you, and the Wardens, are encouraging the Libertarians.”

“I hadn't heard that,” Kitranna said, leaning forward, her brows knit.

Cera shrugged. “Most of the Ferelden Templars are as grateful as anyone else that you slayed the Archdemon,” she said. “But with foreign mages and Templars coming in to assist, and the fact that you have a noble appointment...the Templars are simply becoming restless.”

“Well, they can rest easy,” Kitranna said bitterly. “The King's debating making someone else Arl of Amaranthine, because the Seekers have their knickers in a twist over a mage being a noble.”

"Hopefully that will help,” Cera said, looking uncertain. “I cannot be sure.”

Kitranna narrowed her eyes. “Why not? That's the issue, isn't it?”

“You know better than to think that will be the end of it,” Cera said with a sigh. “The Libertarians are sure to cause a ruckus, or the Templars will think so, and you are the linchpin for quite a great deal of that.”

Kitranna closed her eyes. “Yeah,” she said. “I suppose.” she shook her head. “I've hardly had any contact with the Circle since the Archdemon died—are you sure they're idolizing me so much?”

“The Circles were already restless before the Blight, and it just made everything worse,” Cera said. “Enchanter Wynne's leaving and Uldred's death didn't help anything.”

“I'd thing that Uldred dying would have fixed things—he was an agitator, right?”

“Agitator, and now martyr,” Cera explained with a twist to her lips. “All it took was a few months and some of the younger mages began idolizing him as some sort of fallen hero—the mage who died rather than be taken in by Templars.”

“That's not what happened at all,” Kitranna snapped. 

“I'm aware of that,” Cera said. “But they aren't, especially the foreigners. And Gregoire was undermined by the entire affair--” she shook her head. “Truthfully, I am not sure what will quiet the situation.”

“Any immediate fears?” Kitranna said, a frown between her eyebrows. “Would it help if I did something?”

“No,” Cera said. “No, I don't think so—especially since you're needed to deal with the rest of the darkspawn. The only thing that could possibly help would be if you returned to the Circle, left the Wardens, and--”

“And that won't happen,” Kitranna said.

“I did not think so.”

Kitranna sighed. “Well—thank you for letting me know. You might want to tell Varel, and see if you can send a missive to King Alistair—he'll want to know too.”

Cera inclined her head. “A pleasure to be of service, Enchanter.”

“I'm no Enchanter, Cera.”

“You were of the Circle before the Wardens, were you not?” Cera said. “Your loyalty is to your people first.”

“I'm not loyal to anyone,” Kitranna said. “And I'm no Circle mage.”

“If you insist.”

Kitranna left Cera then, to continue doing what she needed to do.

 

The other ambassador was a Dalish elf who had came to the Keep, a middle aged woman with long white hair and pale blue vallaslin. She was almost turned away from the gate for approaching while bearing a mages' staff openly, but she managed to talk her way through and meet with Kitranna the day before Kitranna left for the Deep Roads entrance.

“I'm Ambassador Andoriel Eilhana Panalenvinte, of Clan Panalenvinte, here on behalf of Clan Leanvunlas' alliance with the Wardens,” said the woman, inclining her head.

“Nice to meet you,” Kitranna said. “Good to know the Dalish are still honoring our agreement.”

“Mm,” Andoriel nodded. “It had been quite a number of years since so many Clans have been in such close contact for so long a time—perhaps not since the times of the Dales. We found we liked it.”

“Is there anything that you're worried about in particular?” Kitranna asked. “What are you here for?”

Andoriel sighed. “Clan Limdurlahn has said that several of their people, one of whom a mage and a potential for First, left the Clan after a violent conflict with the local humans. All of these members were quite young, very angry, and besides the potential First there was another mage. As far as they knew, they were headed towards this territory.”

Kitranna let out a long breath. “That...could be bad.”

“It certainly could be.” Andoriel leaned forward. “Keeper Ilshae kept Clan Limdurlahn out of the Blight. She allied with Leanvunlas in name, and sent a great deal of supplies, but Ilshae is no fighter, and she could never dream of attacking her own people. This group, and the First, are very worrying. According to Ilshae, they were already annoyed to be kept out of the fighting during the Blight, and the conflict with the humans just made everything worse.”

“What do you want me to do about it?”

“Likely you will not be able to find them unless they wish you to,” Andoriel said. “So I would just tell you to keep an eye out. Mayhaps listen for any unusual magics being done or attacks being performed—Ilshae has no desire for her people to come to harm at the hands of Templars or angry villagers.”

“And if I _do_ find them, what should I do?” Kitranna asked. “You know if they attack me, I have to fight back.”

“Of course,” Andoriel acknowledged. “Ilshae would simply like to know, and if you could convince Velanna and Seranni and the others to return, that would be lovely.”

“Alright,” Kitranna said. “I'll keep an ear out. Anything else? How's the alliance with Queen Aeducan doing?”

“It seems to be going quite well,” Andoriel said, leaning back in her seat. “I'm surprised you don't have an Orzammar ambassador here already.”

“One's probably going to show up,” Kitranna said, waving her hand. “What about the Denerim Alienage? Have you kept contact with them?”

“I haven't,” Andoriel said. “Nor my Clan, but Ambassador Oshathyla and Clan Leanvunlas have, I believe.”

“You should talk with them,” Kitranna said. “No reason not to, right? And talking with other governments can only help things, can't it?”

“Can an Alienage really be considered a sovereign group?” Andoriel asked, skepticism clear in her voice. “We have been keeping in touch with King Alistair and Queen Anora as well.”

“I s'pose that's a start,” Kitranna said slowly. “I mean—I guess you don't have to if you don't want to, but it doesn't seem like a bad idea.”

“I suppose not,” Andoriel said with a sigh. “And maybe if we spoke with them more frequently, more of them would come to us. More Dalish can only be a good thing.”

“Exactly. Have any of your Clans had problems with darkspawn?”

Andoriel shook her head. “Only stragglers. The largest problem is up here, in Amaranthine, and we've been mostly avoiding the area.”

“Well, that's something,” Kitranna ran a hand over her head. “What about Templars? Any issues with them? The Circle's been a bit restless, so I hear.”

“Some Templars have gone after escaped mages we took in,” Andoriel sniffed. “But there haven't been any accidents so far. We've been able to avoid them. I worry that the problem will grow worse.”

“Why's that?”

“They are becoming more persistent, and some of the mages are so—damaged—they are in turn, damaging the Fade around them. Clan Jathazan has already had problems with demons—entirely by accident, but even so...”

Kitranna pinched the bridge of her nose. “What are you thinking of doing?”

“Keeper Lanaya and some of the other Clans want to contact Clans from abroad,” Andoriel said. “Orlais and the Free Marches and Antiva—if we strengthen our ties with them, we'll have more support.”

“You should do that, then.”

“The only problem is that the more we do, the more attention we attract,” Andoriel said with a sigh. “Already, we have more Templars on our tail. I have a pretty good feeling that most of the Orlesian Clans won't look twice at an alliance with us, just because they have so many problems with Templars already. That's probably where those ideas about us throwing mages out comes from.”

Kitranna peered at Andoriel. “How's that?”

“I don't know anything specific,” Andoriel assured her. “But I have heard rumors of one or two Clans that got hounded so badly by Templars they either left their mages to them, or were forced to hand them over. Not sure how valid that is, though—we don't have the best communication with Orlesian Clans, except at Arlathvhens.”

Kitranna pursed her lips. “Will the alliance with Queen Aeducan give you some protection? I know Templars and other aggressors were brought up during the Blight, when we were trying to establish the alliance to begin with.”

“I think it'll help,” Andoriel said. “And my Clan thinks so also. Others aren't so sure, but so far Queen Aeducan has kept her word.” she frowned. “I just worry that if it puts Orzammar at odds with the Chantry, they might break the alliance just to keep their lyrium trade going. I don't think they'd consider our alliance more important than the lyrium trade.”

“You never know,” Kitranna said. “And last I heard, a lot of the dwarves weren't happy once they learned what the Templars were actually doing with the lyrium.”

Andoriel chuckled. “Yes, that's true enough,” she admitted. 

“Is there anything you need me to do at the moment?” Kitranna asked. “I'm kind of limited in my abilities and it's going to get worse—the Chantry's hounding me now, and the King.”

Andoriel's face grew grave. “We were worried about that,” she said. 

“You heard?” Kitranna blinked. “But--”

“No, no—we merely anticipated that the Chantry would start interfering,” she said. “They've been quiet so far, but with the Blight over, the quiet was starting to get...suspicious.”

Kitranna scowled. “Well, they're not being very quiet anymore.”

“That could be very bad.”

“It's not looking good, that's for sure.”

“What are you going to do, if they start to become more aggressive towards your Wardens?” Andoriel's expression was serious.

Kitranna ran a hand over her head. “Honestly?” she said. “I don't know yet.”

“You'd best come up with a plan, and soon,” Andoriel advised. “It doesn’t do any good to be unprepared.”

Kitranna nodded. “Don't I know that,” she said. 

 

After meeting with Andoriel, Kitranna gathered up her people so they could prepare to leave for the Deep Roads entrance. 

“I saw Enchanter Cera around,” Anders said as Kitranna was packing her things. “What's she doing here?”

Kitranna nodded. “She's come as a Circle representative,” she said. “Just telling me how things were going.”

“And how exactly is everything going?”

Kitranna grimaced. “Not so well.”

Anders frowned. “Problems?”

“The Templars are getting antsy,” Kitranna explained. “None of them are too happy that I'm here, and that mess with the demons in Calenhad still has everyone on edge.”

Anders nodded. “I wasn't there for that—well I was, but, in the dungeons.”

“I know,” Kitranna said. “I remember.” 

“So, what are you planning to do?”

Kitranna sighed and looked up at the ceiling, hands on her hips. “Don't know yet,” she said. “Cera said the only way to stop the Templars being so jumpy was if I went back to the Circle, and I'm not about to do that.”

“I should say not,” Anders said, and shook his head. “And I thought they had it out for me—usually they leave you alone when the Wardens recruit you, right?”

“If they even let the Wardens take you, yeah,” Kitranna pressed a hand to her face. “I don't even want to be here,” Kitranna growled. “I don't want to be doing these things or talking to these people or--”

“And where else would you be?” Anders asked, arms folded. “Not like a Circle mage has many options, you know.”

“I'm no Circle mage,” Kitranna hissed, clenching her hands into fists and glaring at him. “I'm no caged bird, no prisoner breaking my chains.”

“I didn't say you were, but you do come from the Circle, don't you? No changing that—just getting away from it.”

Kitranna glared at him. “We have to go,” she said. “We're heading to that Deep Roads entrance in a few hours.”

Anders shrugged. “Sure.”


	5. And With Soft Deceitful Wiles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's time for sigrun!!

The Deep roads entrance was deep in a huge ravine, the only way down across a rickety bridge that hung over an enormous chasm. 

“I fell down a set of stairs once,” Nathaniel said, looking down into the chasm. “They looked rather like that set,” he pointed to the stairs that wound down the side of the ravine.

“Hopefully, none of you is clumsy enough to fall,” Kitranna said. Even so, they moved very carefully down into the pit. The ruins looked strange under the light of the sun, the chasm looking almost like a wound gouged in the ground. 

They could all feel darkspawn nearby, and as they went further down, the chasm turned into a proper cave. They found a group of darkspawn dragging a dwarrowdam in heavy plate armor down the tunnel. She managed to kick off the darkspawn holding her and snatch an ax from off the ground. Kitranna and her group moved quickly to assist, and dispatched the darkspawn. 

The woman's chest heaved and she took off her helmet to get a better look at them. She had black hair and Legion of the Dead tattoos on her face, and there was a Casteless brand on her cheek.

“Well,” she said, out of breath. “That was...close. For a moment there I thought I really was going to join the Legion of the Dead.”

“You alright?” Kitranna asked, putting her weapon away.

“Might have cracked a rib, but it's hard to be sure,” with a wince, she pressed a hand to her side. “Everything hurts.”

“Anders?” Kitranna said.

“On it,” Anders moved forward, hands already lit with a healing spell. 

“I'm fine,” the woman protested. “I just need to catch my breath...”

“You need a lot more than that,” Anders said with a frown. “Let me deal with that cracked rib before it punctures a lung.”

“I _did_ crack it? Dammit...no wonder it's so hard to breathe...” the woman sighed, and Anders guided her to sit down so he could heal her. 

“What's your name?” Nathaniel asked.

“Sigrun,” she said. “I can't stay here, I need to head back--”

“Back where?” Kitranna asked. “What are you doing here?”

“The old fortress of Kal'hirol,” Sigrun explained. “There's something going on there. I think the darkspawn are breeding an army.”

Kitranna sighed. “That's just what we needed,”

Sigrun nodded. “My Legion contingent went to investigate, but Kal'hirol was...too much for us,” she looked at the ground. “It was a massacre. And now I...I'm the only one left.”

Kitranna cracked her knuckles. “S'pose I have to clean that up then,” she said with a grimace.

“ _What_?” Sigrun moved to stand up, but Anders pushed her back down. “Don't—the darkspawn have changed, they're _smart_ now! They destroyed the Legion forces, you can't--”

“I know they're smart,” Kitranna said. “Dealt with a talking one just a few weeks ago.”

“They took some of the women,” Sigrun insisted. Kitranna scowled. 

“Dammit,” she ground her teeth. “Broodmothers, you think?”

“I _know_ ,” Sigrun growled. “I wasn't gonna stick around for that.”

“Smart.” Kitranna nodded, and looked down the tunnel. “You said they're smart, too? How smart? Like I said, we dealt with a talking one--”

“Did I mention Kal'hirol is a death trap?” Sigrun said. “Why do you want to go down there?”

“I'm a Gray Warden. It's my job to deal with this kind of shit.”

Sigrun shook her head. “Well—if you're going, I have to come with you.” she glanced at Anders. “You about done there?”

“Almost,” Anders said. “You're lucky you didn't get Tainted.”

Sigrun snorted. “That'll probably change soon.”

“Are you sure you want to come?” Nathaniel asked. “You do not have to--”

Sigrun shook her head. “Darkspawn, if left to their own devices, get up to all kinds of nonsense. These more than most.”

“That's definitely true,” Kitranna said. 

Anders finished healing Sigrun and she stood up and put her helmet back on. “Come on,” she said. “Let's not waste any time.”

Sigrun lead them down into the ruins. The way to Kal'hirol was long, and the closer they got, the stronger the feeling of darkspawn was. Nathaniel, Anders and Oghren were all jumpy and kept flinching at shadows, but Kitranna knew that the darkspawn weren't on top of them just yet.

They came to an enormous cave, the ceiling so high that there was a fissure through which sunlight shone through. Despite the sunlight there were no plants or even moss, as there were clear signs of darkspawn encampment. 

They stood on a ledge overlooking the ruins of a vast thaig, which must have been Kal'hirol.

“I don't know much about Kal'hirol, except what the others in the Legion told me,” Sigrun said, as they looked out over the ruins. “It used to be important—a center of learning for the smith caste.” she kicked at the ground. “When the fortress was lost, a lot of what they knew was lost too. They've never built anything quite like Kal'hirol since.”

“That's what all the smiths say, I'm guessin'?” Oghren asked.

“That's what the Legion said,”

Oghren grunted and waved a hand. “They always go on about how great the old thaigs used to be—trust me, they ain't missing much.”

Kitranna snorted. “Just because Branka lost it doesn't mean that everything that was forgotten is like that,” she said. 

“Branka?” Sigrun looked at them curiously. “Paragon Branka?”

Kitranna nodded, and the group began to pick their way down into the ruins.

“Yeah, Paragon Branka,” Oghren said. “She went hunting for the Anvil of the Void—just about went crazy lookin' for it.”

“Wait...” Sigrun peered at Kitranna. “You aren't that crazy Warden who came from Orzammar to find Branka a few months back, are you?”

“Exactly so,” Kitranna said with a scowl. “That's me. The crazy Warden.”

“Sorry,” Sigrun raised her hands. “It's just—you went across the Trenches by yourself, right?”

“Not by myself!”

“Yeah—I was there too!” Oghren said.

Sigrun looked at Oghren. “Please tell me it wasn't just you two,” she said.

“No, no,” Kitranna explained, lending Sigrun a hand to help her down the cliff. “We had a whole party come with. And it worked out—no one died but Branka.”

They came to the bottom of the cliff, and spotted a lone dwarf on the ground.

“Jukka!” Sigrun cried, and hurried to his side. The others followed her. “Healer--” Sigrun looked at Anders. “He's hurt, bad—can you help?”

Anders kneeled down beside Sigrun and Jukka. “I'll try...” he looked doubtful.

“Sig...Sigrun...” Jukka croaked.

Sigrun put a hand on Jukka's shoulder. “It's me,” she said. “Be still, let the healer help.”

“Is there anyone else left from the Legion?” Kitranna asked. “Any other survivors?”

“No,” Jukka gasped. “No, no one—you must listen,” he reached out and grabbed Sigrun's shoulder. “There are—Broodmothers. They are breeding—I saw an army—you must stop them--!”

Anders pursed his lips, the glow of his healing spell growing more intense. He met Kitranna's eyes and shook his head.

“Beware the Children,” Jukka warned. “They are abominations, even among darkspawn...”

“The Children are here, too?” Nathaniel said, exchanging a concerned look with Kitranna. “This bodes ill.”

“What?” Sigrun looked from Jukka to Nathaniel, confused. “What Children? Whose Children?”

“Forgive me,” Jukka breathed. His breath rattled in his throat, and Anders pulled back, expression downcast. Jukka collapsed, dead.

“Ancestors look kindly on you, brother,” Sigrun murmured, then got to her feet. “We have to finish what the Legion started,” she told Kitranna.

“I'm pretty well aware of that,” Kitranna said. “How many Broodmothers d'you think there are?” she asked, and they began making their way deeper into the ruins. 

“Too many,” Sigrun growled.

“A single one of those things is too many,” Kitranna said.

Before they could say anything else, they were swarmed by a group of darkspawn. There were no Children among them, and with the addition of Justice and Sigrun, they dispatched them more quickly than they would have otherwise.

“The Legion trains its people well, I see,” Nathaniel said, when they had finished, sheathing his blade. 

“Oh, they taught me a few tricks, but I was fighting long before then,” Sigrun said, putting her ax on her back. 

“Oh?” Nathaniel peered at her. “You fought in Orzammar's army?”

Sigru snorted. “Fighting for scraps of food,” she snapped. “For a place to sleep. For survival.”

“Oh...” Nathaniel was taken aback. “I—I didn't mean--”

“It's alright,” Sigrun assured him. “You're a noble.” her voice had a bitter edge to it.

“You Casteless, then?” Kitranna asked. “I saw the brand, but I wasn't sure.”

Sigrun nodded. “Yeah.”

“Casteless?” Justice spoke up for the first time, his thrumming voice making Sigrun jump. “What does that mean?”

“It means that me and my family don't have a caste,” Sigrun explained, peering at Justice curiously. “We aren't supposed to be part of dwarven society. We can't get jobs or buy houses or even go to places where someone who has a caste could.”

Justice nodded. “I see...” his expression was drawn, as he was clearly deep in thought. 

The ruins of Kal'hirol were enormous, sprawling even wider than Orzammar. Darkspawn had taken up residence amidst the ruins, and the Veil was frayed and tattered in places. They picked through the ruins for an hour before coming to the main gate, the official entrance to the Thaig. The ruins outside were merely spillover from the old Thaig.

“The Legion got this far with no trouble,” Sigrun said as they approached the stairs that lead to the gate. She shook her head. “We got careless, and complacent. We stormed the main entrance, up those stairs. It was a disaster. The darkspawn were waiting—they turned the Thaig's old defenses against us.”

“Clever,” Anders muttered. “Not really something I like to hear in relation to darkspawn.”

“Is there another way in?” Kitranna asked. “Sounds like we should avoid the main gate.”

“Most of the old fortresses have hidden side entrances,” Sigrun said. “I bet this one does too, we just need to find it.”

Kitranna nodded. Neither Oghren nor Sigrun had any idea where the hidden entrance could be, so the group searched the courtyard. They hadn't been there for more than a few minutes before they were swarmed by Children, but fortunately, they were not so difficult to dispatch.

“You wanted to know what the Children were?” Kitranna said to Sigrun, pointing at one of the things with her sword. “That's what the Children are.”

Sigrun grimaced. “Never seen a darkspawn like that before...”

“Me either, not until the Blackmarsh,” Kitranna said. “Now you can't walk ten paces without tripping on the damn things.”

They searched the courtyard, some more, and Oghren noticed that one of the carvings on the walls had an odd look to it. He pressed down on the carving's face, and a door slid out of the wall. 

“Heh,” Oghren grunted. “Secret doors. Always useful for sneakin' out without the wife noticing.”

“Not like that's too relevant now, though, right?” Kitranna said, clapping him on the back. “Come on.”

They walked down through a tunnel that reeked of darkspawn filth, and emerged into a larger series of halls filled with darkspawn and ancient traps. They cut their way through the darkspawn (Nathaniel helpfully disarming the traps), making slow progress through the tunnels. In addition to the darkspawn, both Kitranna and Anders could feel lyrium somewhere, the feel of magic making the back of their throats taste electric and the air strange. 

The mood was tense. No one spoke much, and everyone jumped at shadows. The Keep had been thoroughly colonized by the darkspawn, and the tunnels reeked of blood and old meat. The further they went, the hotter it got. 

Eventually they began to hear a strange sound—a clash of metal on metal, but with a peculiar, echoing quality that didn't sound quite right. The Veil began to wear very thin, so thin that Kitranna could feel the press of spirits upon it.

They came across an enormous hall, lit lyrium blue, and populated with dozens of dwarven ghosts, all locked in combat.

Everyone was silent for a minute.

“I've...never seen anything like this before,” Sigrun breathed. 

“I have,” Kitranna said, remembering the ghosts in the Brecelian. “But not with dwarves.”

“They say the Stone remembers everything, that the memories are forever,” Sigrun said, not taking her eyes off of the phantom figures. “Is this what they mean?”

They walked through the crowd, but the ghostly dwarves paid them no mind. They came to a large gathering of dwarves, standing before a speaker. 

Despite the insubstantial quality of his body, the speaker's voice was loud and clear, sounding as if he were flesh and blood. “ _For generations they have told you that you were nothing!_ ” he boomed. “ _Swept you away like so much dust!_ ” the speaker gestured, pointing out to the cavern below. “ _Now you are the only thing standing between them and the darkspawn that threaten our empire!_ ” the speaker raised a fist. _“Show them that you are not nothing! Show them that you can be warriors! Let the Stone tremble with the thunder of your footsteps!”_

Sigrun looked up at the speaker, a pensive expression on her face. If one looked closely, one could just make out the Casteless brand on the ghost's face. 

“You said you saw something like this before?” She asked Kitranna, not looking away from the ghost.

Kitranna nodded. “In the Brecelian—in an elvhen burial ground. There were ghosts there too, but not like this.”

“How were they different?”

“They didn't play out scenes, and it was just two. They knew when you were there and they didn't like it.”

“There was the Blackmarsh as well,” Nathaniel pointed out.

“Those weren't ghosts,” Anders corrected. “Those were spirits who had the memories of the people who lived there.”

“Maybe the Stone does remember everythin', like they always said,” Oghren suggested.

“I don't know,” Sigrun looked troubled. “Come on—let's keep going.”

They pushed forward, further into the ruins, and encountered more ghosts.

 _“They're gone!_ ” a pale figure darted from one wall to the next, to meet another figure in the middle. _“Everyone's gone! They've abandoned the Thaig! We have to follow—we can't stay here and get eaten by those monsters!”_

 _“But this is our home_!” the other figure protested. _“We can't survive out there!”_

_“We can't survive here, either...”_

“The Legion didn't know anything about this?” Kitranna asked in a quiet voice. Sigrun shook her head.

“No,” she said. “Nothing. I've never heard of this before.”

There were more ghosts, silent and locked in battle, and more darkspawn as well. As well as Children and Tainted spiders, they also met one or two of the talking darkspawn, but managed to beat them with little difficulty.

In the ruins of an empty house, they found another pair of ghosts arguing with each other.

_“Mother, please! You can't leave me here!”_

_“Watch your little brother,”_ the other figure said, strapping a sword clumsily onto their hip. _“Keep him quiet.”_

_“Mother—please, you don't know how to fight!”_

_“Oh, I've been in my share of scrapes over the years.”_

The other figure let out a sob.

 _“Chin up, girl,”_ the mother said. _“Someone must fend off the darkspawn. Dailan says that if we do then the Ancestors will look kindly upon us and...and forgive us.”_

“We never did anything but be born,” Sigrun murmured, watching the figures. “It's not our fault.”

They came across more ghosts than darkspawn at this point. There was an armorer talking to a group of prospective warriors.

 _“These weapons were taken from the armories of Kal'hirol!”_ she said. _“I ask only for volunteers who would rather die fighting than give in!”_

The crowd before the armorer was uneasy.

 _“Sod off!”_ someone shouted. _“You people left us for dead!”_

 _“We should just take your weapons, and kill you instead!”_ someone else called.

 _“Then you will go to your graves knowing you murdered the one person who thought you worthy to defend Kal'hirol!”_ the armorer said, unafraid. _“Do you want that?”_ she demanded. _“Or do you want to prove your worth?”_

“The defense didn't do much, did it?” Anders said, glancing around at the ruins. 

“Not enough, no,” Sigrun said. “Not really.”

Further inside, they came across a pair of arguing ghosts.

 _“Those bastards left us for dead, and he wants us to defend their escape?”_ one of them said to his companion.

“Ah,” Nathaniel said. “So that was that the attack was for. Not a defense of their city—but merely a way for everyone else to escape.”

 _“We're going to die anyway,”_ the other ghostly figure said. _“Dailan is giving us a chance to prove we're not worthless!”_

“But we're _not_ worthless,” Sigrun muttered, her lip curled.

 _“You're full of sod, duster,”_ he first speaker said. _“Some of us are going to try to make it to the Surface. You in?”_

_“No—I'm going to do something right for once in my life!”_

Sigrun shook her head, and they moved on. They came across more ghosts, more clashing of phantom steel, and more darkspawn. 

Eventually, they came upon a most curious sight—two groups of darkspawn fighting each other.

“Press the attack!” Bellowed a darkspawn in armor similar to what the First had worn. “The Lost is mine!”

The darkspawn were scattered, many too busy fighting each other to even notice Kitranna and her group, and they continued on even deeper into the ruins. They found more ghosts—the end result of a fight with an ogre, more arguing, fearful and brave endings both. 

Somewhere in the depths, they found an ancient worn plaque.

“May the Stone remember the defenders of Kal'hirol,'” Sigrun read. “'Who were born Casteless and died Warriors.” she knelt down next to the stone. “Died warriors?” she murmured. “He wanted them to be remembered as warriors. Warrior caste. And look..” she pointed. “He carved their names into the stone. Every last one.” she stood up and shook her head. “We can't just leave this here. We have to find some way to honor the memory of those who died here.”

“Sure, but be quick,” Kitranna said. “The longer we take here, the less I like it.”

“The fate of these people...was it just?” Justice asked Sigrun.

“I don't really know what you mean,” Sigrun said. 

“Was it right that they had to stay and fight, instead of be with the rest of the city? It was brave, true, but was it just?”

“Doesn't sound like it,” Anders piped up. “I don't know a lot about dwarves, but that doesn't sound very fair to me.”

“It wasn't,” Sigrun said. “It isn't. It's not fair at all.” she shook her head. “But the Blight's not there to be fair.” she sighed as she looked at the tablet. It was very large, too big to fit in anyone's pack. “I can't carry this,” she said. “But—I can't just leave it here...”

“We could take rubbings,” Kitranna said. “Anyone have some extra parchment they're not using?”

“I do,” Anders said, handing Sigrun a sheaf of parchment and a stick of crumbling charcoal. “There, use that.”

“Thanks,” Sigrun accepted the implements and did a quick rubbing of the tablet, then folded the parchment over and opened her bag to put it in. “I hope it'll be safe in there...” she muttered.

“Here,” Nathaniel handed her an extra oilskin cloak that he had in his own pack. “Wrap it in this, then it shan't get wet.”

Sigrun beamed at him and wrapped the parchment up. “Thanks,” she said. She sighed. “I just don't know who'll take this...I can't exactly go to the Shaper or anything...”

“Worry about that later,” Kitranna snapped. “We need to get moving now.”

Sigrun nodded. “Sure thing.”

The feel of darkspawn was even stronger now, though one hardly needed to be a Warden to tell that. However, as often as they ran into hostile darkspawn, they ran into darkspan who were too busy fighting each other to bother with the Wardens. 

Strangely, they heard the noise of a human voice, not a ghost or another darkspawn. They found a man who was trapped in a cage suspended over a firepit. He had been abandoned by the feuding darkspawn, it seemed.

“Thank the Maker! It's a relief to see someone who isn't one of those...monsters!” he said when Kitranna approached his cage.

“Nathaniel,” Kitranna said. “Help me get him out, would you?”

Nathaniel set to work on the lock.

“Why haven't they killed him yet?” Oghren demanded. “Why is he just there in that...cage? What's he doin' here in the first place?”

“Broodmother food?” Kitranna suggested. “You remember—they don't always kill what they eat.”

The man paled visibly. “I overheard Colbert talking about this chasm, and I thought I'd—I thought I'd come and sneak past the darkspawn to see if there was any treasure.”

“Looks like we just so happened to find a card-carrying member of the Moron Brigade,” Kitranna sneered as Nathaniel finally got the door open and the man stumbled out of the cage. “What were you thinking, going down into darkspawn territory?” she demanded of the man. “Sneak past them—Maker, why didn't I think of that!”

“Look—I did find something!” the man said. 

“You thief!” Sigrun exclaimed. “Whatever you found doesn't belong to you—it belongs to the dwarven people!”

“Well they weren't here to defend it!” the man protested. “It's not stealin' if they've abandoned it!”

“No, then it's just grave robbing.”

“Look—you can have it if you want!” the man said. He pulled something out of his pocket and shoved it into Sigrun's hands. “My life en't worth this!” he ran past them, hopefully out to the surface.

“What did he give you?” Kitranna asked.

Sigrun showed them—a small tile with a flaming sigil on it that felt keenly of magic. “A rune,” she said. 

“Looks like a masterwork rune,” Oghren said. 

“Wonder what he could have done with this?” Anders asked. “I mean—he didn't look like much of a fighter, did he?”

“He could've sold it,” Sigrun said, pocketing the rune. 

“Fair point.”

“Why did the darkspawn leave him alive?” Justice asked suddenly. He was staring at the empty cage. “Do you know?”

“No idea,” Kitranna said. “They've been weird for months, though. Keeping people alive is just a small part of a bigger issue.”

“Like the talking,” Sigrun said.

“Yeah, like that.”

Near the man's cage, they found a smithing anvil, entirely intact. Surprising, considering that all the other anvils and smithing tools they had come across had all been damaged in some way. 

Oghren touched the anvil's surface. “Must be pretty old,” he grunted. “They make 'em differently these days.” he snorted. “Branka explained it to me once, but I'll be a nug's uncle if I can remember what she said. Crazy harpy.”

Kitranna patted him on the shoulder. “Come on,” she said. “Doesn't help to think on bad memories—especially not here.”

“I know, I know...” Oghren sighed, and they moved on. 

Beyond the room with the cage was a tunnel that smelled strongly of meat. Darkspawn influence was very clear here, as there were meat-like growths on the walls and the Taint was so strong it was almost tangible. More Children attacked them, these ones larger and harder to kill than ones previous. They had long, many-jointed legs that they could stand on instead of scurrying on the ground, and when they were upright, they were the size of a cow. 

Sigrun shook her head and wiped her face when they finished fighting them. “These things...” she muttered.

“Pretty disgusting, that's for sure,” Anders said, sidestepping the corpse of one of the Children with a disgusted look on his face. “Glad I don't have to get too close.”

“We are in agreement there,” Nathaniel said, putting another arrow to his bow, just in case. 

Sigrun looked around at the walls. “Look what they've done,” she said, waving at the growths encompassing the ruins. “This is—horrible.”

“Haven't you seen this kind of thing before?” Anders asked. “You're with the Legion, right?”

“It's different, seeing it like this,” Sigrun said as they moved on. “Down in the Deep Roads—I don't know. There aren't any of these Children things, or the weird growths, or...” she heaved a sigh. “It's just different.”

The continued on, finding more Children and more quarreling darkspawn. Eventually they came to a long, long tunnel, where water dripped down the walls and weak sunlight shone through cracks in the ceiling. 

At the end of the tunnel, two darkspawn and an enormous golem fought, the golem slamming one of the darkspawn down and then lifting him up by the scruff of his neck.

“The Architect sends many but does not come himself!” croaked the darkspawn still standing, stepping forward. “He is a coward! I will kill you, and he will know that he has failed to destroy the Lost! He will know that the Mother will tear him apart!”

At that, the golem ripped the darkspawn it was holding in half, and the remaining darkspawn finally became aware of Kitranna and her group.

“Who comes now?” he screeched, his voice worn and cracked as if he were unused to speaking. “I can feel you—I can smell you! You are no darkspawn! What trickery is he planning?”

“What is he going on about?” Anders asked.

“Does it matter?” Nathaniel muttered. 

“Well, it might--”

Anders was cut off as the Lost shrieked “You will die, as all those who serve the Architect will die! The Mother demands it!”

The ensuing fight was exhausting. The golem was slow and clumsy, whoever controlling it not very adept, but it was hotter than an oven, too hot to get near, and arrows had no impact. The Lost was a mage, and excelled in throwing non-magical fighters away from him. Kitranna and Anders, as the only two mages, were split between hurling spells at the golem and shielding their companions long enough for them to get a shot at the Lost.

It was Justice who brought the Lost down, getting close enough to jam a blade through the darkspawn's chest, but the golem took longer. 

Finally, both were dead. 

“Must have been protecting the Broodmothers,” Sigrun gasped as she hefted her bloody ax onto her back. “Now we just have to finish them off.”

“You say that like it's easy,” Kitranna said. She and Oghren exchanged a look. “More than one...” she pursed her lips, then nodded. “You're right—come on, let's finish with this.”

They went down the tunnel where they suspectd the Broodmothers lay, and the smell of flesh and darkspawn grew even more strong. 

At one point along the tunnel, several writing tentacles burst from the wall to try and ensnare them. Though they were easily dispatched, their presence was alarming.

Kitranna stared down at one of the chunks of dead meat, then exchanged a dark look with Oghren.

“Broodmothers,” Oghren growled.

“Yeah,” Kitranna gritted. “Come on.”

The Broodmothers writhed and shrieked at the bottom of a deep pit, too far for Kitranna's group to actually reach them. Even spells would have little effect, as the impact would be scattered and diminished.

“How do we get at them?” Anders said, staring down into the pit. Idly, he sent an arcane bolt down into the pit, where it hit one of the Broodmothers but didn't do much damage. “Nasty things, aren't they?”

“I don't want to look too close,” Sigrun said, peering over the edge with a wince, then drawing back. “What if one of them is someone I once knew?”

Nathaniel looked down into the pit, then up, to where there was an enormous, precarious metal object suspended on chains. 

“There,” he pointed. “Maybe if we drop that, we can get them.” he said, then pointed to the chains connecting the metal thing (it looked like an old, out of use lamp or container of some kind) to the walls.

They set to work snapping the chains that connected the object to the walls, and it fell and broke open at the pit bottom, releasing a horrible smell of lyrium and the shrieks of the Broodmothers. 

“Are they dead yet?” Anders wondered, peering into the pit. 

“Looks like it,” Nathaniels said, his lips pursed.

Sigrun nodded. “I think we did it,” she said. Slowly, the shrieks of the Broodmothers ceased, and the darkspawn sense in the back of the Wardens' minds faded away. 

“If the rest of my battalion were alive, they'd do something to honor you, I know they would,” Sigrun told Kitranna.

Kitranna gave her a ghost of a smile. “Nice thought. 'preciate it. But what I really want is to get out of here. You coming or not?”

“I—I don't know,” Sigrun rubbed the back of her head. “The nearest Legion outpost is through the Deep Roads, weeks away...”

“You should come with us,” Oghren said. “Could always use more dwarves in the Wardens.” he leered. “'Specially ones as good with a weapon as you.”

“Thanks...?” Sigrun said. “But—the Wardens? I don't know...” she straightened her back. “Even if the others weren't dead, I think I should go with you,” she nodded, and the group began to head out of the ruins. “We're caught between two factions of darkspawn—I've never heard of such a thing.”

“Me either,” Kitranna said. “But I'd never heard of talking darkspawn before this, either, so...” she spread her hands and shrugged. 

“Going with you would go against my vow,” Sigrun said. “But...is that even allowed? Can you be part of the Legion and be a Warden?”

Kitranna snorted. “Like anyone's gonna say no to me,” she said. “If I say you can, then you can.”

Sigrun laughed. “You people seem alright,” she said. “And I'd be better off with you at my back than alone.”

“Exactly right,” Kitranna nodded in approval.

So they left the ruins of Kal'hirol to return to Vigil's Keep, this time with Sigrun in tow.


	6. And It Grew Both Day And Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> more of lambert sticking his nose into where it doesn't belong
> 
> remember to comment!

In Denerim, the debates between Lambert and Alistair and Anora were still going on. Lambert managed to catch Fiona before she left Denerim for Weisshaupt. 

“You are Warden Fiona, correct?” he said. 

“Yes, Seeker,” she inclined her head. “I understand you wish to speak with me.”

“Yes,” Lambert said. “I did have some questions.”

“You have concerns.”

“Yes, I do,” Lambert said. “Not least of which is the Wardens' relationship with the Circle.”

“It is not so close as you believe.”

“And who are you to say what I believe?”

“Your behavior speaks for itself.”

“As does yours, Warden.” Lambert paused. “But you are technically not a Warden, are you?” Lambert said. “You do not have the Taint.”

Fiona inclined her head, her eyes narrowed. “And how do you know this about me? Have you spoken to the Wardens of Weisshaupt?”

“I have spoken to many Wardens. Am I correct in saying that the Wardens themselves are uncertain as to your status amongst them?”

Fiona gave a tiny sigh. “It is a lengthy argument, yes.”

Lambert nodded. “I see. So you have come into conflict over this before.”

“Yes.”

“And why is that? I was under the impression that once you were a Warden, you were always a Warden.”

“Some felt that to truly be a Warden, you need the Taint,” Fiona said. “Others disagreed. Those heads prevailed.”

“Mm.” Lambert nodded. 

“Are your concerns alleviated, Seeker?”

“Not quite, Warden.” Lambert said. “You see...as I understand it, you have somehow undone the very thing that makes one a Warden.”

“It was not of my doing.”

“Be that as it may, technically, you are not a Warden.”

“As you are not a Warden yourself, it is not your place to say.” Fiona retorted.

“The Chantry must watch over everything,” Lambert said. “Including the Wardens.”

“We are not beholden to you.”

“So you feel as if your Order is beholden to no one.”

“Not no one. Simply not the Chantry.”

“I see. Then who do you answer to?”

Fiona's lip curled. “This discussion will get us nowhere, Seeker,” she said. “If you will excuse me...”

“Of course. Enchanter.”

Fiona glared at him, and walked away. Lambert watched her go, and resolved to mail several letters. 

 

Lambert requested another audience with Alistair, but with Fiona present as well. This was worrisome, but there was no way to get out of it. Fiona would have left Denerim already were it not for this.

“Enchanter Fiona,” Lambert told her as a way of greeting. “You are obligated to return to the Circle, at once,”

Fiona's eyes widened.

“Wait--” Alistair said. 

“No,” Fiona snapped. “I am a Warden, and not under Chantry authority.”

“As you do not have the Taint, you are only a Warden in name,” Lambert said. “Your fellow Wardens have expressed this.”

“Warden-Commander Clarel--”

“Has already agreed.”

The blood drained out of Fiona's face. “What?” Warden-Commander Clarel was a mage just as Fiona was. 

“The Seekers have been in communication with Weisshaupt for the past month,” Lambert explained. “We have been quite concerned about the actions of the Wardens recently.”

“And the Warden-Commander said...” Fiona pressed her fingers to her temple. 

Lambert inclined his head. “She said in this case, since we have made the request that you return to the Circle, that we have the authority here.”

“Why is this so important?” Alistair asked. “Why Fiona?”

“The influence that the Circle has on the Wardens, and by extension, any of the allies of the Wardens, is alarming,” Lambert said, his expression icy. 

Alistair narrowed his eyes. “How so?”

Lambert looked at him. “You were once in training to be a Templar, Your Majesty,” he said. “Surely you of all people know the dangers of magical influence.”

“But—Fiona, you don't have to--” Alistair began.

Fiona furrowed her brow and looked at Lambert. “No,” she said, a calculating gleam in her eye. “No, if this is the desire of he Chantry, I will return to the Circle.”

Lambert inclined his head in satisfaction. “That is good to hear.”

 

Alistair turned to Fiona after Lambert had gone.

“Fiona, you can't seriously be doing this,” Alistair said. 

“I have to,” Fiona said. “If we try and fight the Chantry on this—I am not even technically a Warden, we have no leverage, and if you fight them, the Chantry could excommunicate your bloodline, or worse. We have already dragged Ferelden out of one civil war, I would not push it into another so soon.”

Alistair sighed. “I know—Lambert threatened us with heresy once before.”

She looked at him sharply. “Because of Surana being an Arlessa?”

“Yes.”

She pursed her lips. “That they are so willing to push you...”

“Not good, right?”

“Not at all.” she shook her head. “This aggression...it is worrisome. I would watch them closely, were I you.”

He ran a hand through his hair. “Leliana's told us the same thing,” he admitted. “Anytime she sends missives—she doesn't like the way things are going. Makes sense now, I suppose.”

Alistair wrapped her in a tight hug. She patted his back. 

“Look, I'll—I'll get you out of there,” he promised, and pulled away from her. “I'm a king, I can do that.”

She smiled. “You are a good lad,” she told him. “But I would rather you focus on your own work. I am quite capable of looking after myself. I have done it long before you were around.”

 

Fiona left Denerim, but Lambert headed for Vigil's Keep. He got there after Kitranna did. 

Kitranna and her companions came back to Vigil's Keep only about a week after they left Kal'hirol. They were all exhausted and filthy, except for Justice, who smelled a little more dead than normal but was otherwise fine. 

“Nice place,” Sigrun said, looking up at Vigil's Keep with large eyes. 

“Thanks,” Kitranna said. “Been working on it. Would be better if it didn't get attacked by darkspawn every five minutes.”

“It was only the once,” Oghren rumbled.

“Yeah, and that _once_ killed all the Wardens there.”

They walked inside. Anders, Justice, Nathaniel and Oghren all went their separate ways, presumably to rest and change out of their filthy armor. Kitranna took Sigrun to take the Joining. 

Varel brought the items necessary, and handed her the silver chalice.

“From this moment forth, Sigrun, you are a Gray Warden,” he told her.

Sigrun took the cup in her hands. “Let that be it, then,” she said quietly, and took a long draught. She handed the cup back, paused for a moment, then her eyes rolled up in her head and she collapsed backwards.

Varel kneeled down next to her. “You chose her well, Commander,” he said. “She will waken soon.”

Kitranna nodded. “Good to hear.” she ran a hand over her head. “I'm going to bed,” she informed Varel. “If anyone wakes me up with anything less than the end of the world, they won't like what happens to them.”

“Of course, Commander.”

 

Anders looked up at the statue of Andraste. He was exhausted, but he couldn't sleep, still feeling keyed up from the fights in Kal'hirol, even though it was days ago. Now he was wandering around the Vigil's Keep courtyard, with nothing to do. He'd gotten rid of his old robes—they were ruined by darkspawn blood, completely unsalvageable. 

“Anders. What are you doing?”

Anders glanced over to see Nathaniel, also in fresh clothing, walking up to him.

“Nothing,” Anders said, and looked back at the statue of Andraste. “D'you think Andraste was really that much of a looker? Don't you think she would've been, I dunno, a barbarian?”

Nathaniel stared at him. “I fail to see the relevance of that,” he said. 

Anders rolled his eyes. “What are you doing out here?” he asked.

Nathaniel shrugged. “I would sleep, but I've had a hard time with that ever since the Joining.”

Anders nodded. “Nightmares, right? You'll get used to it—at least, that's what Surana says.”

“Where is the Commander?” Nathaniel asked. “I have not seen her since she went to see the seneschal.”

“No idea,” Anders said. “Probably doing something important. And if you can't find her, you probably shouldn't go looking.”

Nathaniel frowned. “I simply—it is unnerving to be standing idle,” he said.

“I know what you mean,” Anders said, surprising both of them. “I'm a little worried if I stand still for too long a darkspawn or a Templar will creep up behind me.”

“A darkspawn could not sneak up on you—you would sense it.”

“I know, I know, but that doesn't stop me feeling like they could, now does it?” Anders folded his arms. 

The sky overhead rumbled, and they both glanced up. 

“Damn,” Nathaniel muttered. “Rain.”

“I like the rain, actually,” Anders said. Nathaniel looked at him. “Reminds me I'm not in the Circle.”

“Is the Circle truly so terrible?” Nathaniel asked. 

Anders snorted. “You wouldn't be asking that if you'd ever been there,” he said. 

“Surely it's better to be in the Circle than become an abomination,” Nathaniel said. “Mages are dangerous—aren't the Circles safer?”

“You know how many people I've known who've died?” Anders said with a sneer. “And not from magical accidents or demons, let me tell you.”

Nathaniel frowned, not understanding. “Surely that's...good?”

“Most of the deaths are suicides,” Anders said bluntly. “One or two by a Templar's blade.”

“...oh.”

The sky opened up, and it began to rain. 

Nathaniel cursed. “Come on,” he urged Anders. “We should at least get under a roof.”

“Why?” Anders tilted his head up into the rain and closed his eyes.

“Because you'll get wet,” Nathaniel said, rolling his eyes.

“Not a problem,” Anders winked at him. “I can warm up pretty fast.”

Despite himself, Nathaniel flushed. 

“It is kind of cold though,” Anders admitted. “Come on—I'm sure the Commander'll need us for something soon.”

 

Sigrun awoke soon enough from the sleep the Joining had put her in, which was good. Kitranna found her in the Keep's main hall, looking over the books there. 

Kitranna approached her, and Sigrun stepped away from the bookcase, and looked over at Kitranna.

“I've never seen so many books in my life,” she said with a grin. 

Kitranna shrugged. “You can read them all if you can find the time,” she said. “Personally, I never could.”

“No?” Sigrun sighed. “I've only ever read one book,” sh said. “My friend Varlan taught me to read Common, in the Legion. He only had the one.” she paused. “He's dead now.”

“Yeah, well, lots of people seem to be dying these days,” Kitranna said. She nodded at the bookshelves. “Read the books. You'll feel better.”

Sigrun stared at her. “Is it that easy?” she asked. “To just...put all that death aside?”

“You're in the Legion. It should be.” Kitranna ran a hand over her head. “When Calenhad Circle got overrun with demons, most of the mages there died,” she said. “I used to live in Calenhad. I knew every one of the people who died.”

“I think I heard about that,” Sigrun said. “I'm sorry.”

“You can't let them get in the way, of what you have to do,” Kitranna told her. “They're dead. You're alive. It's not your problem to remember them that're gone.”

“Isn't it?”

“No. It isn't.” Kitranna shook her head. “Listen, I have some things I need to get to. We should have at least a few days' rest here, then we need to be on the road again.”

“Where to?”

“Haven't decided yet—there's a couple of options.” Kitranna nodded at the bookshelves. “Read those. Get some rest. Might want to raid the kitchens, too—being a Warden makes you hungry. I'll let you know when I need you.”

Kitranna left, and Sigrun watched her leave, a frown between her eyebrows.


	7. Till It Bore An Apple Bright

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's time to play international politics!

Ambassador Andoriel was still at Vigil's Keep, along with the representative from the Circle, but now a new face had joined the game.

Irren Talvi, the ambassador who had been Orzammar's representative during the Blight, had come to visit Vigil's Keep, and Kitranna arranged a meeting with her so they could speak.

“Ambassador Talvi, nice to see you again,” Kitranna said with a smile, reaching out and shaking Talvi's hand.

Talvi inclined her head. “A pleasure, Warden-Commander.”

“Something you need me for?”

“Not you specifically, but Queen Aeducan wished you to remain in the loop.”

Kitranna crossed her arm. “So what's happening?”

“Word of these new darkspawn hasn't reached beyond the Queen and the deshyrs yet,” Talvi said. “And the casualties amongst the Legion haven't been fully tallied up.”

“There _was_ a pretty sizeable number of casualties,” Kitranna said, her mouth set in a grim line. 

“I'm aware, and Orzammar is growing nervous,” Talvi said. “We've never even heard of darkspawn like this, no one has, and this combined with the Archdemon, and the stories from the Deep Roads—it's unsettling everyone.”

“So, you haven't heard of this either,” Kitranna sat back with a sigh. “Damn—I was hoping someone might've heard about the talking darkspawn before now...”

Talvi shook her head. “No, I'm sorry, Commander,” she said. 

“Alright,” Kitranna nodded. “I'm working on it—do you want me to send you a report on Kal'hirol?”

Talvi nodded. “That would be excellent, Commander, thank you. No one wants to go there since they lost the Legion contingent.”

“Smart,” Kitranna said. “Place was full of broodmothers until we cleared them out, and fighting darkspawn besides. Also ghosts.”

“Ghosts?”

Kitranna waved a hand. “I'll put it in the report,” she said. “Now—any other problems I should know about?”

Talvi sighed and looked out the window. “Many of our people, especially the nobility, do not appreciate how Queen Aeducan is welcoming so many foreigners,” she said.

“No?”

“No. Our alliance with the Dalish collective has been going rather well, all things considered, but Orzammar is becoming a haven for Circle mages.”

“That a problem for you?”

“It is when it draws attention from Templars,” Talvi said darkly, and leaned forward. “The Chantry has also become...worrisome,” she said.

Kitranna scowled. “For us, too,” she said. “There've been Seekers poking around Denerim—what's been happening with you?”

“Nothing too drastic at the moment,” Talvi said with a frown. “But there've been some disputes over where our laws end, and theirs begin. And there've been Templars sniffing around the Dalish, which is a problem in all kinds of ways.”

“I told them to leave their hands off the Dalish,” Kitranna growled, getting to her feet. “Ambassador Panalenvinte is here representing them, maybe you want to speak to her?”

“Ambassaor Panalenvinte and I have spoken,” Talvi said. “But only briefly—I do want to see if it's possible to arrange a meeting with you, her and myself.”

Kitranna waved a hand. “I can manage that,” she said. “It has to be soon, though—I need to head off and see what else I can find out about the darkspawn.”

Talvi ran a hand over her face. “As I understand it, the Chantry is attempting to influence your Order as well,” she said.

Kitranna nodded. “That's right—they strongarmed Alistair—King Theirin—into giving the title of Arl of Amaranthine to someone else besides me. He hasn't picked anyone else yet, he's stalling, but they're already leaning on him pretty hard.”

“I heard about that,” Talvi said. “You should be wary, Commander.”

Kitranna snorted. “I know that,” she said. “Believe me, I know that.”

“Commander, this bodes ill,” Talvi said. “The Chantry has not had much interaction with Orzammar, except in trade, for hundreds of years. That they're trying to interfere now...” she shook her head. 

“No, no, you're right,” Kitranna said. “What does Culwydd—I mean, what does Queen Aeducan have to say about this?”

“There is a missive she sent, here,” Talvi pulled a letter out of her pocket and handed it to Kitranna. It was marked with the royal seal of the Aeducan family. Kitranna accepted the letter.

“I see you have a member of the Legion among your Wardens,” Ambassador Talvi said. 

Kitranna nodded. “Sigrun. She was the last one to survive the attack on Kal'hirol.”

Talvi gave an approving nod. “She must be a very good warrior, then,” she said. 

“Do...you want her to go back to the Legion?” Kitranna frowned. “Because she's already done the Joining--”

Talvi waved her off. “Her business is her own—doubtless she'll be an asset to your Wardens.”

Kitranna nodded and sat back. “Good to hear.”

They talked for a little while longer about trade agreements and the goings on in Orzammar, but Kitranna soon had other appointments to get to. Talvi would meet with Ambassador Andoriel and Enchanter Cera, and Kitranna would try and meet with all three of them later.

Culwydd's letter was brusque and to the point, showing her frustration with the situation. The Templars had come nosing about in Orzammar several times, looking for apostates who'd slipped their leash during the Blight. Worse were the nobles of Orzammar, many of whom had resisted Culwydd's changes to the city. 

Bhelen was still in the dungeons, as although some nobles had suggesting exiling him as he had her, she didn't want to do that to him. He had lost most of his supporters, but someof the younger nobles still supported him over her and she worried that he may try and pull a coup at some point. 

Jowan was doing fine, fortunately. Most people simply didn't know what to make of him, and the confusion stopped anyone from bothering him. Templars had been after him once or twice, but they had always been turned away at the gates because they never had the right paperwork. Oddly, escaped mages tended to be more likely to have passports and appropriate documents than Templars, although that was changing as the Templars learned they couldn't simply force their way into the city. 

Culwydd worried about what would happen if she let more Templars into the city—the dwarves had no native mages, but she knew the story of the Dales, even better now that she had Dalish allies. At the moment, since Orzammar supplied lyrium to the Chantry, she was reasonably sure of Orzammar's security, but she knew it wasn't impossible someone else could figure out the trick to mining lyrium. The minute the Chantry got another source, she worried that they would try something. 

Lastly, she mentioned that Zevran had been in Orzammar for a short time before going back to Antiva, which Kitranna hadn't known but was good to hear. 

She did meet with Andoriel, Cera and Talvi to discuss the current problems with the Chantry and Orlais, as well as the fact that Alistair still hadn't appointed a new Arl to Amaranthine.

Kitranna ran a hand over her head. “He's mentioned making Shianni or one of the Tabris family an Arl,” she said. “But I'm not sure...”

“Tabris?” Talvi asked.

“Some of the elves from the Denerim Alienage,” Kitranna explained. “He was thinking that if someone there became a Bann or another title, they could avoid the whole 'Tevinter slavers kidnapping Ferelden citizens' thing.”

Talvi nodded. 

“I don't know that that would help,” Andoriel said. “You could make one of them a Bann, I'm sure, but Arl? Especially if they don't live in Amaranthine...”

“I don't live in Amaranthine.”

“And look where that got you.”

Kitranna grunted. “Good point—he's stalling, hoping they'll drop it, I think. Personally I don't care what he decides, I just need to get rid of the darkspawn problem.”

Andoriel frowned. “Do you really want to risk not thinking about this?” she asked. “You know if the Chantry is willing to interfere with the Wardens, they will interfere with the Dalish as well.”

Kitranna shrugged. “They haven't yet,” she said. “You haven't done anything to piss them off—not any more than you already were, anyway.”

“We are allied with you,” Andoriel insisted. “And we don't have to do anything. They've proven time and time again they will attack us with no provocation.”

“But these darkspawn are the main concern, really, aren't they?” Cera asked. “If more of these intelligent darkspawn were to spread...”

“We'd be hip-deep in Broodmothers and darkspawn faster than we could blink,” Kitranna said. “That's why I need to figure this out now, before they get smart enough that they don't need an Archdemon to lead them.”

“I agree,” Talvi said. “Ambassador Andoriel, Queen Culwydd has pledged her allegiance to the Dalish—we will assist if you have need of it.”

“Will you?” Andoriel said. “I don't doubt our alliance,” she said, raising a hand to Talvi when the dwarrowdam opened her mouth to protest. “I simply know that the Chantry needs one thing from you—lyrium. If they feel they no longer need that, I am certain they will turn on you, as they are doing to the Wardens. If you have the Chantry on your back, how will you be able to spare a thought for us?”

“You understand, of course, our alliance goes both ways,” Talvi said. “If we need aid, you will give it.”

“And you know that the Dalish are an example of what happens when the Chantry becomes angry,” Andoriel said. “If the Chantry decided to cut off lyrium trade or, Creators forbid, perform an Exalted March, there is, frankly, little we could do to help.” she sighed and rubbed her forehead. 

“The Chantry is by no means invincible,” Talvi said. “Nor are they as violent as they were when they performed the majority of their Exalted Marches.” she looked at the others. “I do not feel the Chantry will be so extreme as to attack Orzammar—that would prove very foolish. I believe their strength lies more in manipulation.”

“And attacking those who have little recourse to defend themselves,” Andoriel sniffed. “But this returns to my main point—Commander, the Wardens are militarily strong, but you are few, disparate. Your strongest ally is King Alistair, and he is heavily influenced by them.”

“Not out of choice,” Kitranna said. 

“But you see my point.”

“Yeah,” Kitranna nodded. “Yeah, I do—but what can I do? I have enough on my plate trying to stop the darkspawn killing everything.”

“I feel you are all seeing the Chantry as more aggressive than they actually are,” Cera said. “Commander—I am thankful for your role against the Blight, as is everyone.”

“But...?”

“But surely you must see how this looks,” Cera spread her hands. “You—a mage Warden—have left the Circle, put two different monarchs on the thrones of two different nations, and brokered a sudden alliance between several groups that never even spoke to each other before. King Alistair even attempted to make you a noble—surely you see why they would be concerned.” 

Kitranna leaned back in her seat. “Even so,” she said. “The Chantry imposing the way they are—especially now, since I still have darkspawn to deal with...” she shook her head. 

“My people are well-prepared for the worst,” Andoriel told Cera. “Is it not true that there were tensions between the Circle of Magi and the Chantry before the Blight? This is nothing but the continuation of a troubling pattern.”

“That is true, there have been tensions,” Cera agreed. “But the Blight and the changing of the Ferelden throne—you must surely see why the Chantry is acting the way that it is. There has been no alliance between the Dalish and anyone else for hundreds of years—and no mage has held a position of power such as you, Commander, except in the Imperium,” Cera nodded at Kitranna. 

“What do you suggest, Enchanter?” Talvi asked. “Do you believe there is a way to resolve these tensions?”

“Do you not?” Cera asked.

“I am sure there is, but every possibility is troubling to me. What do you think?”

“What I told you earlier, Commander,” Cera said. “The only way the Chantry—the Templars and the Seekers as well as the Grand Cathedral—will believe you and your people are not a threat is if you return to the Circle.”

Kitranna snorted. “Absolutely not.”

“When the darkspawn threat is eliminated, of course,” Cera added.

“Still no.”

“Would it be such a bad thing?” Cera asked, exasperated. 

“Yes.” Andoriel said. 

Cera glared at her. “I am sure, of course, that a Dalish woman knows more about the Circles than a Circle Enchanter does.”

Andoriel scowled. “Oh, I beg your pardon, Enchanter, I must have been hallucinating the children stolen from our Clans, the mages murdered or made Tranquil, the many mages who slipped the leash because the Circle is simply too intolerable--”

Cera narrowed her eyes. “Ah, my mistake, I thought it would be better to be safe and sheltered from harm rather than constantly on the run in the forest, in danger from villagers, animals and who knows what else--”

Andoriel got to her feet and opened her mouth, but Talvi put a hand on her arm. 

“Ladies, please,” Talvi said. “This won't get us anywhere.”

Cera sighed and leaned back. “My point is, if you wish the Chantry to be less threatening to you, it would behoove you to be less threatening to them,” she said. 

“We'll always be a threat to them,” Andoriel said, sitting down. “You know the Chant—they won't stop until they spread their myths to all the corners of the world.” she shook her head. “Commander, returning to the Circle would be a temporary measure, at best.”

“'s a good thing I wasn't considering it, then, isn't it?” Kitranna said. She stretched, cracking her back. “Look, the fact is that the Chantry's been jumpy for years,” she said, kneading her forehead. She looked at Cera. “You know what happened with Uldred at Calenhad wasn't a surprise.”

Cera sighed and looked down. “No, it wasn't,” she admitted. “The ferocity of the attack, perhaps, but...he had been agitating for years.” she leaned forward. “But this simply proves my point—the Chantry is already worried about the Circles, and the Blight and the change in Ferelden leadership just compounded things. The best thing would be to show them that you are not trying to do anything but eliminate the darkspawn.”

“That's what I've been doing for the past year!” Kitranna exclaimed. “All this happened because of the Blight! Alistair wouldn't even be king because of it--”

“Exactly my point!” Cera said. “There were already tensions, and the Blight just made it worse.”

“Queen Aeducan would be happy to give you sanctuary, should you need it, Commander,” Talvi said. “Perhaps that would placate the Chantry—if you were in Orzammar, you would not be directly in their attention.”

“That might make it worse,” Cera said, shaking her head.

“Yeah—it'd look like I was running,” Kitranna said. “And you have enough problems with Templars coming after apostates hiding out there. I wouldn't want to give you more problems.” she shook her head. “I don't think we'll find a solution right this instant,” she said. “Cera, you have a point—everything we do looks kind of threatening to the Chantry. But I don't want to make any decisions yet,” she grimaced. “Not until I deal with the darkspawn.”

“Wise,” Andoriel said. “But you can't ignore the Chantry forever.”

“I'm not going to,” Kitranna assured her.

They talked for a little while longer, mostly discussing trade between the three disparate groups. Dagna, Orzammar's first official Arcanist, had been in and out of both the Calenhad Circle and several Dalish Clans, and was a fairly reliable contact between the three. 

The Dalish were an advantageous trading partner as it turned out, as they could provide Orzammar with both practical and magical items that Orzammar may not have been able to get anywhere else (dragonhide and various furs and unusual magical runes or artifacts being just some of the things they traded).

The relationship between the Circles and the Dalish was shaky, as it had been during the Blight, and was now even worse. There were still accusations of child theft thrown about, although since the Blight had ended, no Clan claimed to have lost a child to the Templars, though Andoriel said it was only a matter of time. 

Calenhad and Orzammar continued their regular lyrium trade, although in addition to Dagna, two other interested dwarves had come to study in the Circle. Apparently traffic between Orzammar and the surface had grown since Culwydd discarded the law that stated that no dwarf could go to the surface and retain their place in Orzammar. 

 

Kitranna had received word that Wynne was visiting Amaranthine, and wished to meet with her to discuss a matter of some importance. Kitranna figured that on the way to Amaranthine, she could go to the Pilgrim's Path and see what was causing all the ruckus. She gathered her companions, and they left for the Path.

Less than a week after they left, Lambert came to Vigil's Keep at last, after many days of hard travel. He went to see Varel immediately.

“The Warden-Commander?” Varel said when questioned about Kitranna's whereabouts. “She left, almost a week ago now.”

Lambert tilted his head back. “I see,” he said. “I must speak with her. Will you object to my staying here until she returns?”

Varel opened his mouth, then reconsidered his words. “If you truly wish to see her so urgently, you can wait,” he said. "Her errand might take some time.”

“And what is her errand?”

Varel saw no reason to lie. “She is looking for the darkspawn which are plaguing Amaranthine,” he explained. “And she's also dealing with a problem on the Pilgrim's Path.”

Lambert nodded. “I see. Is there anyone else I might speak to? I'm informed there are some representatives of the Wardens' alliances here--”

“Yes...” Varel peered at him. “Why do you want to speak with them?”

Lambert drew himself up. “The Chantry is concerned about any major alliances that occur without our being informed of them,” he said. “Especially since the Wardens are maintaining them now that the Blight is over.”

“Even with Orzammar, and the Dalish?” Varel said, confused.

“It is wise to know what other nations are doing, yes,” Lambert said. “But the Chantry is more concerned with the actions of the Circle of Magi.”

“Oh—in that case, you can speak with Enchanter Cera.”

Lambert inclined his head. “Thank you.”

 

Cera looked worried, twisting her hands into knots and avoiding Lambert's gaze. “Seeker,” she said. 

“Enchanter,” Lambert said.

“What do you need?”

“I was hoping you could tell me the state of things here—and why the Circle has chosen to maintain such close contact with the Knight-Commander.” he caught her eyes, and she went a few degrees paler.

“Oh—well, Surana was an Enchanter from Calenhad,” Cera reminded him. “And she helped us with the demon...problem...” she grimaced and trailed off.

“I recall. She prevented the need for the Right of Annulment, didn't she?”

Cera nodded, a small smile touching her lips. “She did.”

“And you consider her a valuable ally, even now that the Blight is over.”

Cera considered her words carefully. “The darkspawn are still a threat,” she said. 

Lambert raised one eyebrow. “Indeed?”

Cera nodded.

Lambert considered this. “I understand Vigil's Keep has suffered at least one darkspawn attack.”

“That's right—that's why the Warden-Commander has to recruit new Wardens, all the Orlesian ones were killed. You can ask Seneschal Varel about it—she saved him from the darkspawn.”

Lambert leaned back in his seat. “Did she now?”

“Yes.”

“So you consider the Warden-Commander trustworthy.”

“Yes, of course.”

“How interesting, Enchanter, because the last mage I knew of to have as much political power as she does was a Tevinter magister,” Lambert's tone did not change, the same idle curiosity he'd held the entire time.

Cera swallowed. “She isn't a noble anymore, ser. King Alistair made a mistake, didn't he?”

“That he did. But that does not change the dangerousness of her position.”

“What do you mean?”

Lambert looked at her. “You know the history of the Imperium as well as I do—perhaps better, being a mage.” there was something biting in his tone. “You know that when mages are given power over kings and queens, nothing good comes of it.”

Cera looked away. “'Magic is meant to serve man...'” she muttered.

Lambert nodded. “'And never to rule over him.'”

“She's doing good work,” Cera said. “Without her, Vigil's Keep would have fallen to the darkspawn. She killed several Broodmothers in Kal'hirol, also, and exorcised the demons infesting the Blackmarsh.”

“I cannot fault that her results so far have been good,” Lambert said. “Enchanter Cera, I would advise that the Circle remain close to her.”

Cera looked at him. “And why is that?”

“A reminder of her roots will remind her of how easy it is to succumb to temptation,” Lambert said. “And mages are in more danger than most.”

Cera nodded. “I'll see what I can do, Seeker.”

 

It took some doing, but Lambert managed to get a meeting with Talvi and Andoriel as well. Neither of them wanted to see him, always claiming work, but finally he was face to face with both of them. 

“Why are you here, instead of Denerim?” Lambert asked.

“Our alliance is with the Wardens, not King Alistair,” Andoriel said. 

Talvi inclined her head. “Queen Aeducan honors the ancient treaties set down by the Wardens,” she said. “Those predate the Theirin family and Ferelden in its modern form.”

“Why are you here?” Andoriel asked. “Surely the Wardens are not under Chantry purview.”

“Traditionally, no,” Lambert explained. “But recent actions have caused us to take a deeper interest.”

“Ah,” Talvi nodded. “The passing on of the Ferelden crown?”

“Among other things, yes.”

“Well, Seeker, is there anything in particular you need from us?” Talvi said, eyeing Andoriel, who was looking increasingly suspicious. “Orzammar and the Dalish have no treaties or even much contact with the Chantry.”

“You are aware that your people could change that at any time, of course.” Lambert said.

Andoriel raised one eyebrow. “I believe it would take some doing for the Dalish and the Chantry to come to an accord,” she said. “You understand our history, do you not?”

Lambert inclined his head. “That history has been..regrettable,” he admitted. “I simply suggest that the Chantry is a more reliable ally than the Wardens.”

“Forgive me, Seeker, but I hope you will understand that my people would not believe that to be the case,” Andoriel said, her voice frosty.

“Nor mine,” Talvi said. “Queen Aeducan is a faithful follower of the Ancestors' wisdom, besides.” in some ways, anyway.

“I see,” Lambert's tone was neutral. “Then I hope you see, as the Chantry does, that the Wardens themselves are...unstable.”

“I do not believe we see it that way,” Talvi said. “So far, the Wardens have proven to be an excellent ally.”

“If you insist.”

The meeting ended shortly after that.


	8. And My Foe Beheld Its Shine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guess who made it to the party? it's velanna!

Kitranna, Anders, Sigrun, Nathaniel, Oghren and Justice finally reached the Pilgrim's Path after about a week and a half of riding. They'd been delayed by a storm, but were now finally getting to their destination. They approached the problem area (Kitranna sensing both darkspawn in the distance and a faint pressure on the Veil, a sure sign someone was doing spellwork) when someone came running in the opposite direction and almost ran into them.

“Out of my way!” the man snapped.

“Woah, hold on there,” Kitranna said, putting a hand on his shoulder. “What's going on?”

“You don't understand--” the man tried to press past Kitranna without success. “She's after me--”

"Who's after you?” Sigrun asked.

“The elf!” the man said, frantic. “Some witch—makes the trees come alive--” he shook his head and managed to push by them, and barreled full-speed down the path.

“Well,” Kitranna put her hands on her hips. “That sounds promising.”

“Does it?” Justice asked.

“She's being sarcastic,” Anders explained.

Their conversation was interrupted when the sound of a spell cracked the air, and on a ledge above them, the trees forcibly parted so they could see a blonde elvhen woman in ragged clothes.

The woman looked down her nose at them, a sneer on her face. “More scavengers, here to prey on the misfortunes of others?”

“No,” Sigrun called up. “We're not.”

Kitranna peered intently at the woman, noting the tattoos on her forehead and the Dalish style of her clothing.

“Are you Velanna?” Kitranna asked.

The blonde's head jerked back, and she scowled. “How do you know that?” she snapped. 

“Your Keeper wants you to stop running wild,” Kitranna said. “And I'm pretty sure these caravans would appreciate it if you stopped attacking them, too.”

Velanna shook her head. “You don't understand,” she snarled. “Nor does the Keeper—the shems have been hounding me for months, killed my friends, and the merchants kidnapped my sister!”

“I hadn't heard anything about that,” Kitranna said. “Just that your Keeper wanted you to stop going after humans.”

Velanna growled in frustration. “They will return Seranni to me, or more of them will die!” she snapped. “Consider this a warning!”

The air cracked with magic again, and she was gone. 

“We'd've heard if a bunch of merchants had kidnapped a Dalish elf, wouldn't we?” Anders asked. “They would've been bragging about it for months.”

Kitranna inclined her head. “Probably—and as far as I know, there aren't even that many Dalish in the area except for Velanna and her friends.”

“You heard about them?” Sigrun said. “Why do you know about them?”

“Andoriel—the Dalish ambassador at the Keep—said that Clan Limdurlahn had some kind of scuffle with some humans. Velanna and some others wanted to try and get revenge, Keeper Ilshae disagreed, so now we have this.” she gestured up to where Velanna had been. “C'mon, we should find her before she does any more damage.”

“What about her sister?” Sigrun asked as they walked up the hill.

“We'll keep an eye out for her, too,” Kitranna said. “But I don't even know where to start—Velanna chased all the merchants away, so even if they _have_ kidnapped her, we won't know where any of them went.”

The woods crackled with magic, the Veil thin and easily pushed against. Kitranna frowned.

“Anders, Justice, you feel anything...weird about this place?” she reached out into the air, where she could almost feel a hole in the Veil, like cloth that had worn too thin.

“Mm,” Justice rumbled. “The Veil is very worn here.”

Anders nodded in agreement. “I thought maybe it was her, the Dalish mage,” he said. “But I think it's too much for one person.”

Kitranna took a breath. “Do you all feel the darkspawn, too?”

“A little,” Anders said.

“Only vaguely,” Nathaniel said. “As if they were very far away.”

Kitranna nodded. 

“Think they're up to somethin'?” Oghren asked.

“Yeah, probably,” Kitranna said. They walked for a ways, not encountering Velanna again, when they ran across an abandoned Dalish campsite. It had clearly been attacked, one of the aravels destroyed and the tents all collapsed. There were no halla to be seen, and several Ferelden-style weapons were scattered about. 

Justice frowned when they reached the site. “This place has been scarred by pain,” he said. “But...” he picked up a broadsword that had been made in the Ferelden way. “These weapons seem out of place.”

“How so?” Kitranna asked.

Justice put the sword down. “All is not as it seems.” he glanced around the ruined campsite, his eyes narrowed at the sight of the violence. “Death...it is as much a mystery to us as it is to mortals.” he admitted.

“How's that?” Sigrun asked.

“What lies beyond is obscured, even to us.” Justice glanced at the aravels and tents again. “Tell me—what does it mean, to be Dalish? The body I inhabit—the memories say that the Dalish were cast out, unwelcome in almost every land. Why is that?”

“That's a really long story that I don't have time to get into now,” Kitranna said. Anders gave Justice a quick, abridged history while the group continued on. They kept looking, still not encountering either Velanna or the darkspawn. 

What they did find, however, was one lone survivor of a group of mercenaries that had been attacked by darkspawn. Initially they were in the wood to drive away Velanna and her group, but the darkspawn not only overwhelmed them, but took their weapons as well. As far as the man could tell, the darkspawn had killed the other members of Velanna's group and planted the weapons to trick her into attacking other merchants, instead of focusing her efforts on whatever it was that the darkspawn were doing. The survivor, sick with the Taint, died soon after relating the story.

“So all of these people died over a...misunderstanding?” Anders gasped. “Maker, that's horrible! We have to find her, tell her she's wrong--”

Kitranna snorted. “There's a pretty good chance that the mercs and Velanna's people would have fought anyway,” she said. “I think the bigger problem is the darkspawn figuring out how to trick people.”

“I've never even heard of them doing that,” Sigrun said.

“I haven't either,” Kitranna pressed her mouth into a thin line. They doubled back, to see if they could find Velanna back at her campsite, and ran into a group of darkspawn instead. 

They dealt with the darkspawn, which came in truly alarming numbers, and when they were almost back at the Dalish campsite, Velanna made herself known again. 

“Why are you still here?” she demanded from a tall ledge. “I told you to leave me alone! I warned you—this place is not for you!”

“It's not for you, either,” Kitranna called back. “Honestly, with all the darkspawn around, no one should be here, but I don't see you leaving.”

Velanna scowled. 

“It's not the mercenaries who killed your friends,” Anders told Velanna. “It was darkspawn!”

Velanna snorted and folded her arms. “Since when do darkspawn use shemlen weapons?”

“They have a lot of new tricks,” Kitranna said. “Look—can you just come down and we can talk about this?”

Velanna tilted her head back and looked at them with suspicion. “You say that Keeper Ilshae sent you?”

Kitranna shook her head. “No—Andoriel Panalenvinte told me that Keeper Ilshae told _her_ to keep an eye out.”

Velanna considered them for a moment or two. Then the trees closed around her again, there was a rumbling in the ground, and she popped up in a thicket of branches and roots, right next to them.

“Wow!” Sigrun exclaimed, as Velanna brushed some dirt off her sleeve. “How'd you do that?”

Velanna glanced at her, eyebrows raised. “Why would you want to know?” she snapped, looking Sigrun up and down. “You are a dwarf.”

Sigrun shrugged. “I was just wondering,” she said. 

Kitranna waved a hand. “Whatever,”she said. “We have to deal with the darkspawn.”

“Why would the darkspawn do this?” Velanna asked, her voice cracking. “It makes no sense—they’ve never done anything like this before now!”

“There’s a new kind,” Kitranna said. “Have you run into any talking ones?”

“Talking?” Velanna snorted. “Don’t be ridiculous. “They can’t talk.”

“These ones can,” Nathaniel said grimly. 

“Not very well,” Anders added. “But they can.”

Velanna shook her head. “But why take Seranni, and kill the others? What is the point?”

Sigrun frowned. “Was Seranni the only other woman with you?” she asked. 

“No—two others, and they just killed them. Why?”

Sigrun’s frown grew more pronounced, and she exchanged a look with the other Wardens. “They make women into Broodmothers,” she said. “But if there was more than one woman…”

“Why would they just take one, and kill the others?” Nathaniel finished. “That does not make sense.”

“Wait--” Velanna said. “Are you saying Seranni will—become one of those things?” 

“That is traditionally how Broodmothers are made, yeah,” Kitranna said, hands on her hips. “And if we hurry and try and find her, we’ll have a better chance of stopping that from happening.”

“This elf should be brought to justice,” Justice said, a scowl twisting his face. “Why should we assist her at all?”

Velanna stared at Justice as if she’d only just seen him. “What would _you_ know of justice, spirit?” she demanded. “Whatever purity of purpose you once had, surely it is lost now.”

Justice’s scowl deepened. “What would you know of it?”

“More than you, apparently—don’t you know that when you have a body, your purpose is polluted, twisted?” she waved a hand at him. “You’re two steps away from being a demon. Why do you think you don’t see spirits of Compassion or Curiosity walking around in dead bodies?”

“I would not become a demon,” Justice snapped. “You are wrong.”

“She does have a point,” Nathaniel said quietly. “I’ve never heard of a friendly spirit possessing a body.”

“Just because you’ve never heard of it doesn’t mean it can’t happen,” Anders pointed out. “Justice’s been fine so far!”

“So far,” Velanna grumbled.

“This conversation can also wait ‘till we’ve dealt with the darkspawn,” Kitranna snapped. 

“Do you know where any might be?” Velanna asked.

Kitranna shook her head. “We keep feeling them around, but can’t locate them.”

Velanna blinked. “You...feel them?”

“Wardens can do that,” Sigrun explained. “We can feel where the darkspawn are.”

“Keeper Zathrian could tell when the Blight was coming from the Wilds,” Kitranna explained. “So it’s like that.”

Velanna nodded, her eyes lit up in understanding. “I see...but I could not tell you where any darkspawn might be. I have not encountered any.” she frowned. “Nor come across any Blighted beasts—but that makes no sense, during the Blight, we found many Blighted animals, even far away from the Horde…”

“They’re being sneaky,” Sigrun said, shaking her head. “They put a lot of thought into tricking you. I don’t like it.”

“Neither do i,” Kitranna said. “Any tunnels or ruins nearby? Dwarven ruins would be the most likely guess…”

“There are some old mining tunnels to the south,” Velanna said, jerking her head in the appropriate direction. “Perhaps there.”

They went to the tunnels, and the feeling of darkspawn did indeed increase tremendously. The tunnels smelled rank and rotten, like meat that had gone off, another fairly clear indicator of darkspawn nearby. 

The mine, however, was abandoned, no darkspawn coming to meet them. They could feel something watching them, and the Wardens continued to sense darkspawn, but none appeared.

“Does anyone else have the feeling this is one big trap?” Anders asked softly. 

Kitranna curled her lip. “It definitely doesn’t feel right,” hse said. “But we need to keep going.”

“I’m sure there is a better way to do this than just stumbling about in the dark,” Nathaniel said, exchanging a look with Anders.

Kitranna gritted her teeth. “If you have any ideas, please feel free to let me know,” she snapped. 

“Anything other than wandering around blindly would be--”

The group was suddenly stricken with a trap spell—they’d wandered right into a glyph that had been placed on the ceiling. 

Kitranna muttered a vulgar oath and she, Anders and Velanna all separately started to spin counterspells to the glyph, when a man appeared at the mouth of one of the tunnels far overhead.

The man was enormous, would have been huge even for a Vashothari, and he loomed over her, the only thing she could see in the darkness. His gray skin gleamed in the shadows, golden skeletal structures crisscrossed his ribs and arms. His eyes were covered by a mask, and his head was in the wrong shape. He was flanked by a woman in armor.

He raised a long, clawed hand, and the group felt their eyes growing heavy. Kitranna’s vision grayed at the edges, and she lost grip of her spell, and fell unconscious.


	9. And He Knew That It Was Mine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sigrun has her sights set on velanna the moment she lays eyes on her

Kitranna awoke to someone speaking to her.

“So you are the Commander of the Gray Wardens,” it was the enormous man from before, his voice was soft, strangely muffled. His hands were long and clawed. “Do not be frightened.”

She tried to open her mouth, and tell him she wasn’t frightened of a jumped-up darkspawn, but nothing moved. 

“Your injuries have been tended to.” he tilted his head to the side, and Kitranna felt a surge of magic pulse through the Fade. “I apologize for what I must do,” he said, and he sounded genuinely contrite. “I did not wish to be your enemy.”

He certainly didn’t, she tried to say, but her limbs were heavy and her mouth wouldn’t work. Her thoughts felt sluggish, and it seemed she should have been more concerned about that than she was.

He paused, considering her for a moment. “Now is not the time for this,” he said. “Sleep.”

 

Kitranna truly awoke in a prison cell. Her companions were just waking up as well, everyone with bleary eyes and confused expressions. 

None of them had their weapons or armor. 

Velanna looked around, and upon spotting someone just outside of the cell, she jumped to her feet.

“Seranni!” Velanna rushed to the bars of the cell and reached out for her sister. “What have they done to you?”

Seranni took Velanna’s hands as the others crowded around Velanna, eager to hear any explanation Seranni might give. 

“They haven’t done anything to me,” Seranni assured her sister. “I’m fine—it’s not me he wants.”

“What do you mean?” Kitranna asked.

“I have to get you out before something bad happens,” Seranni said. She glanced over her shoulder, towards the door of the dungeons. “The darkspawn have your things—you can get them back if you’re quick, but you have to get out of the mines."

“Seranni—what about you?” Velanna said, gripping Seranni’s hands tighter. “Let us out, and I can take you home!”

Seranna tugged her hands out of Velanna’s grasp and began to work on the lock of the cage. “You have to run,” she told the Wardens. As soon as the door swung open, Seranni bolted.

“Seranni--!” Velanna cried. “Wait--!” she began to chase after her sister, but Kitranna grabbed her arm.

“Don’t,” she said. 

“What?” Velanna snarled. “Why not? You do not command me!”

“Don’t get yourself lost down here,” Kitranna snapped. “She’ll be fine—she knows the place. We need to get our things and get out of here.”

Velanna growled and yanked out of Kitranna’s hold, but didn’t chase after her sister. “Fine,” she snapped. “But we will find her later.”

“Sure,” Kitranna said. “But now, we have to get out of here.” she growled to herself and the group began to move. Velanna, Anders, Kitranna and Justice could all give them some form of magical protection, but they were frighteningly vulnerable without their armor and weapons. 

They did find their things later—oddly , some of the darkspawn had taken them. Even more peculiar, some of the darkspawn had taken and worn their armor, which fitted them just fine. This was very, very strange in the case of Nathaniel, Kitranna and Velanna, who all had clothing custom made for them, and therefore their gear shouldn’t have fit random ghouls or darkspawn. 

With some luck, they managed to kill the darkspawn and take their possessions back. The mines were a maze, however, filled with more darkspawn and peculiar experiments and chemicals. 

Finally, they reached an enormous chamber. On a ledge on one of the high walls, the huge man stood, flanked by a dwarf with a Casteless brand on her cheek and Seranni herself.

“Seranni!” Velanna cried, spotting her. 

Seranni glanced at Velanna then put a hand on the man’s arm. The man tilted his strangely-shaped head to her, and they had a silent exchange. 

Kitranna stepped forward.

“Want to tell us what’s going on?” she said, tapping the handle of her sword with extreme menace. 

"Seranni..." Velanna said, stepping forward.

The man exchanged a look with his companions, and none of them said anything. “Anything?" Kitranna said, hands outstretched. "Was there any point to any of this? The darkspawn killing the Dalish? Anything?"

The man pursed his lips, there was another series of looks, and then they just turned and...left.

"Seranni!" Velanna called. “Wait!”

The man brought down the mine behind him, Seranni, and the dwarrowdam, so they could not be followed. Kitranna and the others were forced to make their way out of the mine with no answers or explanation.

“Well,” Kitranna said, putting her hands on her hips. “What a colossal waste of my time.”

“Why wouldn’t Seranni come with me?” Velanna wondered, wringing her hands. “This makes no sense…”

“Maybe the darkspawn did something to her,” Sigrun suggested gently. “I mean—who knows what the talking ones can do, right?”

“Why did she free us if she was just going to go with the darkspawn anyways?” Nathaniel asked, his brow furrowed. “That makes no sense.”

“It doesn’t,” Kitranna agreed.

“Not unless the darkspawn already got what they wanted from us,” Anders said with a slight frown. 

“What could they possibly want?” Kitranna demanded. “Apart from all out things?” she fingered the handle of her blade in a protective way.

“Since when do the darkspawn go for outright stealing?” Sigrun asked. “They’ve never done that before. And did you see the size of that—darkspawn—man--thing?” 

Kitranna sighed. “Never seen anything like that before.”

Sigrun shuddered. “I haven’t either.”

“We need to keep moving,” Kitranna said. “I need to get to Amaranthine and then we need to head back to Vigil’s Keep—Velanna, what are you going to do?”

“She could be a Warden,” Sigrun suggested. “We need more people, don’t we?’

“A Warden?” Velanna said.

“She should not be a Warden,” Justice rumbled, disapproving. “That would not be just.”

Velanna snorted. “As if you would know a thing about it, spirit,” she grumbled. Kitranna appraised Velanna.

“You could be with us,” Kitranna said thoughtfully. “Darkspawn haven’t killed you yet.”

“Commander--” Justice said.

“Lots of criminals join the Wardens,” Sigrun pointed out to the spirit. 

Justice paused. “Yes,” he agreed. “This body knows of some—but it is not just.” 

“Would it kill you to stop banging on about _just_?” Kitranna asked. She hummed. “Would you want to join us?” she asked Velanna. “I bet we could help you find Seranni.”

Velanna thought about that. “I have no more Clan—no more friends,” she said. “Ilshae will never take me back—too weak-willed, too cowardly—and I do not know if I could find Seranni without help.” she nodded. “If you will have me, i will join your Wardens.”

“Alright, great. Nice to have you aboard,” Kitranna said. 

 

The travel to Amaranthine was frustrating, Kitranna in a bad mood, and Velanna generally grumpy. Everyone else was feeling offset by the behavior of the darkspawn, and everyone was jumpy and unhappy to several degrees.

Velanna didn’t get along with most of them, though Sigrun and Nathaniel both made an effort to be polite to her. Justice didn’t like her and Velanna didn’t appreciate Anders’ and Oghren’s senses of humor in the slightest.

Sigrun, apart from being friendly, seemed to actually get on alright with Velanna. 

“You’re the first elf I’ve ever met,” Sigrun told her one day. “Well—second, after the Commander. But she’s not Dalish so I’m sure it’s different.”

“She is from a Circle. Of course she and I are different.” Velanna said in response.

“Do you feel honored?”

“What?”

“That you’re the first Dalish elf I’ve ever met. You’ll shape my opinion of your entire people.”

“Oh—thank you. I needed more anxiety." Velanna sneered.

Sigrun smiled at Velanna. “Glad to help!”

There was a pause, and then “How did you come to be a part of Surana’s band?” Velanna asked. “You are no surfacer dwarf—you were born in Orzammar.”

“She rescued me from darkspawn,” Sigrun explained. Her face fell. “We—my contingent, with the Legion, we ran right into practically a whole Horde of them in Kal’hirol. They killed the rest, and I ran—I almost got out, to the surface, but they caught me and would’ve killed me but for the Commander.”

“I helped too, y’know,” Anders said. He’d clearly been listening to them. “About half of your bones were broken.”

“Don’t listen in on private conversations,” Velanna snapped. Anders raised his hands and sighed heavily.

“Fine, fine--!”

“So—your Legion is dead, then.” Velanna said, very deliberately turning her back on Anders.

Sigrun nodded. “Not everyone. Just the ones I was with.”

“I suppose we have that in common, then.” Velanna didn’t sound happy to have anything in common with anyone.

“Yeah…” Sigrun said with a shrug. “I’m sorry. Your friends--you knew them well?’

“My whole life. I grew up with them.”

“Oh—maybe that’s worse.” Sigrun frowned. “I only knew the Legion for a few years.”

“They chose to come with me,” velanna said. “It is my fault. I lead them into that darkspawn-infested midden.” she scowled. “The darkspawn are not your fault. You were simply overwhelmed. It is different.”

“I used to wish I could just get away from all of them,” Sigrun said. “The Legion, I mean. Now they're gone and I just want them back.” she looked down at the ground. “Silly, isn't it?”

“No,” Velanna said. “No, it isn’t.”

“The Commander says I should just forget about them,” Sigrun confided. “But I don't think I can.”

Velanna glanced in Kitranna's direction, her lips pursed. “I could not tell you a better way,” she said. “I think there must be a better one, though.”

“Yeah,” Sigrun glanced up at Velanna with a slight smile. “Yeah, I bet there is.”

Velanna flushed and looked away.


	10. And Into My Garden Stole

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i've always thought that anders' personal quest doesn't make any sense unless the chantry is trying to pull a fast one

When they arrived in Amaranthine, Kitranna went to go find Wynne, and left her companions on their own.

“Alright, I have to go find a friend of mine,” Kitranna told her companions. “You lot stay out of trouble.”

“We are not children, to be ordered around thus,” Nathaniel huffed.

“Speak for yourself,” Anders smirked, elbowing Nathaniel. “We’ll catch up, Surana.”

The Wardens (and Velanna) hovered about just outside the city for a bit, not wanting to draw too much attention. Eventually Velanna spotted a tree that took her interest and wandered over to it. Sigrun was quick on her heels.

“This is a beautiful tree,” Velanna said, looking up at the large tree. “I did not expect to find one thriving and healthy in a shemlen town.”

“Why not?” Sigrun asked. “I'm sure lots of people like pretty trees, even if they're human. I know I like them.”

“Of course you like trees,” Velanna folded her arms. “I swear I’ve seen you take handfuls of dirt and sniff them!”

Sigrun chuckled. “Oh—I can’t help it,” she rubbed the back of her head, flushing slightly. “It smells good! Anyway—why don’t you tell me about the tree?”

Velanna folded her arms. “I suppose you would not recognize it,” she grumbled. “This is a dahl'a'mythal—a tree of Mythal. Keepers' staves are cut from the wood of such trees.” she looked up at the tree. “Ilshae—Keeper Ilshae—had such a staff cut for me, for when I would take on her role.”

“Is it special? I mean—is a staff from one of these trees more magical, or stronger or something?”

Velanna paused for a long moment. “I do not think it affects my magic,” she said. “But it—it is worth something, to feel the strength of your people in your hands.”

Sigrun looked up at the tree. “Sounds nice,” she said. “The dwarves have something kinda like that—you know about the Ancestors and the Paragons and all of that?”

“A bit,” Velanna said. “Our Clan met some dwarven soldiers during the Blight. I have a passing knowledge of those things.”

“Your people seem a lot more willing to help you out than mine and me,” Sigrun said.

Velanna scowled. “Orzammar’s caste system is barbaric,” she said. “There is no need for it. You are one of their people. They should protect and help you as much as they do anyone else.”

“Sure,” Sigrun said. “I mean—I guess so. But—I don’t know. Shouldn’t I prove I’m worth more than they say? They shouldn’t be forced to accept me.”

“Yes they should,” Velanna said. “You owe them nothing. It is they who owe you.”

“Huh.” Sigrun looked up at the tree. “I don’t think I ever thought of it that way before.” 

“Of course not. Why should you have?” 

 

Kitranna met Wynne in a crowded pub near the center of Amaranthine. Wynne was easily spotted by another mage, as she wore spells of protection about her like a cape. 

“Wynne, nice to see you,” Kitranna summoned a smile.

“It is good to see you as well, Surana,” Wynne said with a smile. “I contemplated visiting you at Vigil’s Keep but—well, things become busy.”

“What is it you needed to talk to me about?” Kitranna asked.

“Alistair thought perhaps you would wish to hear this news from a friend rather than an anonymous messenger—and I agreed.” Wynne said. 

“What is it?” Kitranna frowned. “What’s the matter?”

Wynne sighed. “You recall that Fiona was staying in Denerim, to assist while Anora and Alistair cleaned up after the Blight?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“And you remember that a Seeker was to come and speak with Alistair.”

“Yeah...Wynne, what…?”

Wynne closed her eyes. “The Seeker—Seeker Lambert, the second to Lady Seeker Nicolene—was the Seeker who came. He decided that since there was no active Blight, Fiona, due to her—unusual circumstances, must return to the Circle.”

“Back to the Circle?” Kitranna whispered. “They sent Fiona back—they can't do that!” nausea rose in her stomach. “She's a Warden, how did they--?”

“She has no Taint,” Wynne said. “The Wardens of Weisshaupt said that the Chantry was well within their rights to ask her to return—the only reason she hadn't done so sooner is because they didn't insist.”

Kitranna shook her head. “This doesn’t make any sense. Since when can the Chantry interfere with the Wardens?”

Wynne shrugged and spread her hands. “According to Alistair, the laws concerning mages and Wardens become extremely murky after a certain point. They can be read one way or another.”

“Then why haven’t they dragged all the mages back to the Circles?” Kitranna asked. “They were giving me grief about being a noble, but--”

Wynne sighed. “Now that the Blight is over, they may try that soon,” she admitted. “The Chantry is frightened. The Chantry is already worried about losing its hold on the Circles, and the Circles themselves--” Wynne pinched the bridge of her nose. “This business with the Wardens is just making everything more tense,” she said. “The Libertarians wish to pull away entirely from the Chantry, and this is just convincing them further of their cause.”

“The College of Enchanters is meeting in Cumberland this year, right?” Kitranna asked.

Wynne nodded. “Hopefully, we can come to an agreement,” she said. “But with the Chantry pushing to hard on the mages and upon King Alistair--” she shook her head, her expression pained.

“Enchanter Cera said a lot of the same things,” Kitranna said. “Nothing about Fiona, though. I guess she didn’t know either, but she said the Chantry was getting bent out of shape about lots of things.”

Wynne nodded.

Kitranna dug her fingernails into her scalp, staring at the wood of the table. “Cera said the best way to try and calm everyone down would be for me to go back to the Circle,” she said.

Wynne nodded. “Surana,” she put her hand on Kitranna’s shoulders. “This is not your fault.”

“I never said it was.”

“It isn’t your fault, but you are the catalyst through which much of this has happened,” Wynne said, tightening her grip on Surana’s shoulder. “The Chantry sees one mage gaining a great deal of power very quickly, by irregular means, and that frightens them. And when the Chantry is frightened, the Circles become frightened as well. Frightened people make bad decisions.”

“What am I supposed to do?” Kitranna demanded, thumping a fist on her chest. “I have this darkspawn problem to deal with, and I can’t go back to the Circle, Wynne, I _won’t_.”

“Perhaps if you inform the Chantry of the darkspawn problem, they will understand the necessity for more Wardens,” Wynne said thoughtfully. “If they pull back from the Wardens, the Circles will be calmer.”

Kitranna nodded slowly, the tightness in her chest easing. “That’s a good idea," she said. “You think I should contact the Chantry directly?” she stroked her chin. 

“If you came into contact with Leliana, she may be able to point you in the right direction,” Wynne said. “She has a great number of contacts within the Chantry, and hopefully with more information cooler heads will prevail.”

Kitranna sighed. “Hopefully,” she said. “Probably not. You know what they’re like.” 

“The Chantry or the Circle?” 

“Both. Either.’ Kitranna waved a hand. “I just—tell me how to find Leliana, I’ll talk to her about this. Try and keep the other Enchanters calm, alright? We still don’t even know what was the thing about all the demon attacks during the Blight…”

Wynne pursed her lips. “And the peculiar dreams, as well.”

Kitranna nodded. “Exactly. It hasn’t stopped, as far as I know--’

“I haven’t had any overtly unusual interactions with spirits,” Wynne said. “Nor has anyone else, as far as I have been able to tell. Perhaps now that the Blight is over, the Fade is calmer, but…”

“But you don’t think so.”

Wynne shook her head. “I am not certain of anything.” 

Kitranna looked away. “Me either.”

“Have you been well, otherwise?" Wynne asked.

Kitranna snorted. “No, of course not.”

Wynne nodded sagely, a knowing look in her eye. “You miss Morrigan.”

“Yeah...I mean, that’s definitely part of it.” 

Wynne sighed. “She would never have stayed.”

Kitranna looked at her sharply. “You don’t know that. Maybe...if things were different…” she faltered. 

“At the moment, she is not here,” Wynne said. “And that hurts you.”

Kitranna avoided her gaze. “Should it not?”

“It is normal for these things to hurt, but you cannot let it distract you.” Wynne caught her eyes. “There are larger things at work. You cannot afford to have your mind on anything but the task at hand.”

“I know,” Kitranna said. “I know.” they were silent for a few minutes. “How’ve you been?” Kitranna asked at length. “Holding up alright?”

“I am well,” Wynne said. “I am no longer fighting darkspawn every waking moment, so I daresay I am doing much better than I was when we were traveling.”

Kitranna snorted. “Yeah, the fighting darkspawn thing is pretty tiring.” she leaned back in her chair. “Our last scuffle was a week ago and I’m still feeling it—and that’s with a spirit healer and all!” she sat up. “Did I tell you about Anders?”

Wynne furrowed her brow. “Not the young lad who jumped into the lake?”

“That’s the one.”

They chatted for a bit longer about things, mostly ones inconsequential. Wynne worried a bit about what taking in a known malcontent like Anders might do for the Chantry’s perception of the Wardens, but agreed that a spirit healer was needed on Kitranna’s team regardless. 

After a few hours, they parted ways. Wynne had a large number of things she needed to do before leaving for Nevarra, and Kitranna needed to get back to her own companions. She found the others where she had left them, looking bored but generally whole.

“Glad you lot didn’t get into trouble,” Kitranna said.

“What trouble would we have gotten into?” Nathaniel asked with a slight frown. “You were only gone for a few hours.”

“You’d be surprised what you can manage in a few hours,” Anders said with a grin in Nathaniel’s direction. 

They were on their way out of Amaranthine when someone recognized Anders. An elf woman, leaning against a stone wall, saw him and waved them over.

“‘Bout time you showed up,” the woman pushed off of the wall she was leaning on.

“Excuse me?” Kitranna snapped.

“Namaya?” Anders said, recognizing the woman. “You’re still here?”

“I keep my promises,” Namaya informed him. “Here—turns out you were right. The cache is here, in Amaranthine.”

“It is?” Anders said in surprise. “You found it?”

Namaya waved him off. “Yeah. What you do with that is up to you. I for one am done dealing with mages.”

“You have a problem with mages?” Kitranna demanded, stepping forward. 

Namaya blinked at her. “Who are you?”

“That’s the Warden-Commander,” Anders told her. “Long story. Surana—it’s fine, she’s a friend.” 

Kitranna eyed Namaya dangerously. Namaya glared at her right back. 

“Well...anyway…” Anders interjected. “I guess I should...thank you?”

“Damn right you should,” Namaya said. “Look, if you get caught, Anders, I’m not helping you again. That’s all I’m saying.”

Namaya left, and Kitranna glared at Anders.

“I...suppose that requires some explanation,” Anders said.

“Yes,” Kitranna growled. “It does.”

“She’s normally more welcoming than that!” he said. “A Lot more!”

“That’s not what my problem is.”

“Look--the last time I escaped the Tower, I asked her to look into some things. That’s why I was in Amaranthine in the first place, to meet up with her.”

“So you’re a little late, then.”

“More than a little.”

“What were these ‘things’ you wanted her to look into?”

“During the Blight, and everything that happened in Denerim, the Templars moved the phylacteries from Denerim to Amaranthine,” Anders explained. “And mine is in there.”

Kitranna bit her lip. “If yours is there, mine is too, probably,” she said. “The Templars shouldn’t be going after Wardens, but…” she trailed off.

“If they have that blood, they can track us,” Anders agreed. “And what’s to stop the Chantry from declaring mages in the Wardens are apostates, too?’

“Not much,” Kitranna said, taking a breath. “Maybe even less than there used to be.”

“That’s promising.’

“Look, we’ll go find the phylacteries,” Kitranna said. She pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed, remembering her conversation with Wynne. “But if the Templars find out about it….”

“Then what?” Anders asked. Kitranna didn’t say anything for a long time. “Surana? What is it?”

“Look, if we do this, the Chantry might see it as more reason to push on the Wardens,” she said. “The Seekers are already hounding Alistair—King Alistair—and they already sent one mage Warden back to the Circle.”

“What?” Anders exclaimed. “Who?”

“You wouldn’t know her—Warden Fiona, she was never at Calenhad, but she was with the Wardens.”

“And they sent her back to the Circle?” Anders shook his head. “That’s just more reason for us to do this before they come up with a reason to drag us back, too.”

“Or, we’ll just be giving them a reason,” there was a sinking feeling in Kitranna’s gut. “We’re stuck either way. If we don’t, there’s a chance the Chantry will back down, and leave us alone…”

Anders shook his head. “They won’t.”

Kitranna scowled. “No. they probably won’t.” she knew that Wynne would tell her this wasn’t a wise course of action. The better idea would probably be to back off. “But if we push them, they’ll definitely push back. If we leave off...” she shook her head. “Bastards,” she snarled. “If they could just leave us alone to begin with…” she took a deep breath. The idea of her phylactery, her leash, being so close made her blood boil. 

They had no right to hold any leash of hers. She was a Warden, and so was Anders. 

“Come on,” she said. “Let’s go find those phylacteries.”

 

The cache was being kept in a warehouse on the far end of the city. 

“This seems like a bad idea,” Nathaniel said. 

“Don’t care,” Kitranna said. “You lot stay put. Keep an eye out in case something goes wrong.”

The door to the warehouse was unlocked, making Kitranna raise an eyebrow. She and Anders exchanged a look and went inside.

The inside was dark and dusty, scattered with crates and odd bits of supplies. There were no people inside.

“No guards…” Anders muttered.

“This doesn’t look good,” Kitranna said.

“Do you think we might actually be that lucky?”

“No.” Kitranna put a hand on her blade. “I think this is a trap.”

“Then we should probably leave.”

Before they could do so, a tall woman in Templar plate strode out of a back room. 

“And here I thought the infamous Anders wouldn’t take the bait,” she said. She was flanked by two other Templars, also wearing full plate. Kitranna bared her teeth.

“Ah, yes, I suppose I should have known it would be you,” Anders rolled his eyes. 

“He's a Warden,” Kitranna snapped, pointing at Anders. “You don't have any authority over him, so I suggest you back off.”

The Templar woman looked at Kitranna, her eyes narrowed. “Warden-Commander. You made a poor choice with this one.” Kitranna suddenly recognized her as the Templar who had initially been escorting Anders back to the Circle when they stopped at Vigil’s Keep. 

“Have you been following him the whole time?” Kitranna demanded. ‘What’s the point in setting up a trap for a Warden? Shouldn’t you have gone back to the Circle?” there was a sinking feeling in her gut.

“You can’t arrest me anyway!” Anders exclaimed. “King Alistair allowed my conscription!”

“The Chantry supersedes the Crown in this matter,” the woman said with a sniff.

Kitranna stepped back, grabbing onto Anders’ sleeve as she did so. “Then why did you even allow it?” she demanded. “What are you trying to pull here?’ 

“We will ensure that this murderer never bothers anyone again,” the Templar said. “That is all we wish to do.”

Kitranna shook her head. “No—no, I don’t think so,” she pulled out her sword, and lightning ran along the blade. 

“I would not do that if I were you, Commander.” the Templars tensed.

“And if I were _you_ , I wouldn’t go around bothering Wardens, but it’s a little late for that,” Kitranna snapped. “Unless you want to back off, now.”

The Templar scowled. “You cannot wish him to be under your command,” she said.

“I don’t think that’s your call to make, is it?” she turned the sword over in her hand. “Decide. Either you leave right now, or you get the wrong end of this.” 

The Templars all exchanged dark looks. 

“On your own head be it, Commander,” the head Templar said with a scowl. “Just remember—you came here with him. This little display will not end things.”

The Templars left, keeping their eye on Kitranna and Anders the whole time.

“I wonder if Namaya knew about this?” Anders said, watching them go.

Kitranna shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. Something else is going on here.”

Andetrs looked at her. “You really think so?” 

Kitranna nodded sharply. “Why would they go to all the trouble of luring you into a trap, if they knew you were a Warden?” she asked. “What’s the point? What were they trying to do?”

“They can’t stand it when spirit healers leave the Circle,” Anders pointed out. “It’s like how they never let Tranquil out, ever, even to somewhere they’d be safe.” Anders’ expression turned sour. “We provide them a service. Healers heal the Templars, Tranquil give them enchantments. They’d never let us go.”

“But this--” Kitranna waved a hand. “This is going directly against the Wardens. Why would they do that?” she shook her head. “I knew the Chantry was pushing us, but this far--?”

“Come on,” Anders said. “Shouldn’t we be getting back to Vigil’s Keep? I mean—I don’t really want to talk about this right here.”

Kitranna nodded. “Good point. Let’s get out of here.”

The others met them right outside the warehouse.

“Anders!” Nathaniel hurried up to Anders, the others following on his heel. “Are you alright?”

“I'm fine, I'm fine,” Anders assured him.

“What happened?” Sigrun asked Kitranna. “We saw a bunch of Templars coming out of here--”

“It’s alright,” Kitranna assured her. 

“Why were they here?” Velanna demanded. “What did they want?”

“They wanted Anders,” Kitranna explained, gesturing to the spirit healer. 

“What for?” Velanna’s lip curled. “What possible use could they have for him?”

“He is a Warden,” Justice said with a slight frown. “Kristoff’s memories tell me that mage Wardens are not supposed to be hunted by Templars. This does not make sense.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Kitranna agreed.

“You are quite sure you're alright?” Nathaniel asked Anders.

“Yes, yes, I'm fine!” Anders said. “Stop fussing,” he rubbed his forehead. “What do we do now?” he asked Kitranna. 

“Go back to Vigil’s Keep,” she said. “See what we can do about the darkspawn, and see if we can complain about the Chantry to someone.”

“Like who?” 

Kitranna shrugged, and the group began to walk while she thought. “Maybe Alistair could do something…”

“They already got him to demote you from bein’ a noble,” Oghren pointed out. “You might wanna think about going to someone else.”

“Who else am I supposed to get help from?” Kitranna demanded. “Culwydd doesn’t care about the Chantry, and they probably wouldn’t listen to her anyway, unless she did something stupid like try to cut off lyrium trade—Maker knows they wouldn’t listen to the Dalish, and all the senior enchanters from the Circle are headed to Nevarra to try and cool everything off.” she sucked a breath in through her teeth. “I don’t know what else we can do,” she admitted. 

“Surely there is something!” Velanna said. “You cannot let them run all over you like this!”

“I’m not going to,” Kitranna snapped. “I just--we have to think about this.” 

The trip from Amaranthine to Vigil’s Keep was tense. The darkspawn didn’t make any new moves, but all the mages were jumpy, waiting for more Templars to come after them. 

“They won’t give up,” Anders confided in Surana. “They never give up.”

Kitranna’s lip curled. “Let them try something,” she snarled. “Just let them try.”

“That’s what I’m worried about…” Anders shook his head. 

 

Sigrun had come up with a nickname for Velanna. 

“Gimle-vael?” Velanna said. “What in the name of the Creators does that mean?”

Sigrun chuckled. “It's a compliment!” she assured Velanna, patting her arm. “It means 'pretty star.”

“Oh.” Velanna was quiet for a moment. “Thank you.” she paused again, then added “In Dalish, to say that, you would say, 'uvun'inansha,” Velanna explained. “Or 'uvunudh.'” she frowned. “But that would not mean anything.”

“No?”

“No, because it would make more sense to call—to say--” she stumbled over her words. “It would make more sense to call a friend—ah—ma'halla, or—ara'lin.” she flushed. 

Sigrun smiled. “And would you call me that?”

“I—I--” Velanna was even redder now. “I—I could,” she said at last, bright red. 

“You should,” Sigrun informed her. “We’re friends, right?”

Velanna paused. “I suppose…”

“You’d let me know if we weren’t friends, wouldn’t you?” Sigrun elbowed her with a slight grin.

“I am not in the habit of being friendly with people I dislike,” Velanna said. 

“That’s what I thought.” Sigrun hummed to herself. “Gimle-vael is a bit long, though,” she said.

“You are the one who came up with it.”

“I know! How about...ibine?”

“What does that mean?” Velanna sighed.

“Gemstone.”

“Oh. I suppose that is...acceptable.” Velanna was still a little red, and avoided Sigrun’s eyes. 

Sigrun smiled.


	11. When The Night Had Veil'd The Pole

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok folks we're in for a bit of a doozy here because to fit the Aesthetic i made this chapter a lot longer

The minute they got back to Vigil’s Keep, it was clear something was very wrong. Varel approached Kitranna immediately, taking her elbow and pulling her to one side.

“Warden-Commander,” Varel was quiet and grim as he took her arm. “There is someone waiting to see you.”

Kitranna frowned at his expression. “Who is it?”

Varel took a deep breath. “Seeker Lambert. He comes on behalf of the Chantry.”

Kitranna went cold. “Hang on,” she said. “I’ll see him in a minute--let me talk to the others first.” she had to clench her fists to stop them from shaking.

Varel nodded, and Kitranna returned to the group.

“Alright,” she said. “We have a problem.”

“What is it?” Sigrun asked.

“There’s a Seeker here,” she said with a heavy sigh. “A representative from the Chantry.”

“A Seeker?” Anders breathed. Nathaniel put a hand on his shoulder. 

“Let me handle it,” Kitranna said. “You two--” she pointed at Velanna and Anders. “Get somewhere out of sight. You too,” she said to Justice. 

“Why?” Velanna demanded. “What authority does this Seeker have?”

“Enough to be a problem,” Kitranna said. “He probably won’t like apostates running around and he definitely won’t like Justice if he sees him—look, just let me talk to him and then I’ll tell you what happened.”

Anders nodded, a grim expression on her face. Velanna looked mutinous, but Sigrun tugged her arm and they left. 

Kitranna went to meet with Lambert.

“Seeker Lambert,” Kitranna said. He was an enormous man, and dressed in plate armor inscribed with the Seeker insignia.

“Warden-Commander,” Lambert inclined his head.

“Any particular reason you’re here?" she asked. “I’d heard you were in Denerim--”

“I wished to see Vigil’s Keep for myself,” he said. “Hopefully I will see these..intelligent darkspawn your reports speak of.”

“Yeah, hopefully you won’t,” Kitranna said with a grimace. “They’re pretty nasty.”

Lambert inclined his head. “As you say.” he paused. “I notice two of your Warden recruits are mages,” Lambert said.

“'S'right,” Kitranna said with a shrug. “Problem with that?”

“One is a known apostate wanted by the Chantry.”

“And now he's a Warden. I got to him first.”

“I am told that a contingent of Templars came to Amaranthine to try and retrieve him.”

Kitranna nodded. “Yeah. And that was a mistake.” she narrowed her eyes at him. “How’d you hear about that so soon?”

“The head Templar of that particular contingent informed me as soon as she left your company.”

Kitranna shrugged. “It’s a good thing you’re here,” she said. “Pretty sure those Templars were acting out of their jurisdiction.”

“How so?”

“By attacking a Warden pardoned by the Crown, that’s how.”

Lambert’s expression did not change. “The Chantry’s authority bypasses the Crown in matters of mages.”

“So why didn’t they just arrest him at Vigil’s Keep?” Kitranna demanded. “Why spring a trap when he was already conscripted by us, the Wardens?”

“Lieutenant Rylock felt that when she initially attempted to arrest him, there was too much opposition from the Wardens and the King,” he said, his voice neutral. “She felt that a quieter approach would be best.”

“But he is a _Warden_ ,” Kitranna insisted, placing her palm flat on the table. “She doesn’t have any sway over him—the Chantry doesn’t have any hold over the Wardens, unless the rules changed when I wasn’t looking.”

“This particular apostate is extremely dangerous and has escaped multiple times,” Lambert said. “Who is to say he will not turn on you?”

“Well, the fact that I haven’t tried to attack him yet is a pretty good indicator,” she said, grinding her teeth. “Listen, you can’t have come all the way up here to talk about my choice of recruits.” she leaned forward. “Why are you really here?”

“The Chantry has many concerns about the overreach of the Wardens,” he said. “You in particular.”

“...and this is your problem...how?”

“A mage who openly threatens and intimidates Templars into abandoning a dangerous apostate? Anyone would have concerns about that.”

Kitranna quirked an eyebrow. “I killed an Archdemon. Anyone would be intimidated by me. If they weren't, I'd be worried.”

“King Alistair granted you a noble title, despite that being quite plainly illegal by the laws of the Chantry,” Lambert added.

“I never asked him to do that,” Kitranna snapped. “And he revoked it when you stepped on his toes. I don’t see the problem.”

“Really? You do not see the precedent that it sets?” Lambert leaned forward. “I have spent a great deal of time in Tevinter, Commander. I know what happens when mages gain power.”

Kitranna raised an eyebrow. “Alright, Lambert, you wanna compare me—an _elf_ —to a Tevinter magister?”

Lambert waved a hand. “It does not matter your race. What matters is your behavior. You are an...imflammatory individual, pushing laws, influencing powerful people...I have seen this pattern repeated before, and it will never end well.”

Kitranna leaned forward. “So, what do you want from me?” she hissed. “Want me to go back to the Circle? That won’t happen. It won’t ever happen.”

Lambert looked at her. “In that case, I believe we have nothing more to discuss,” he said, his tone icy. “Your choice is your own, of course.” he stood up. “And the consequences of that decision are yours as well.”

Kitranna sneered at him. She waved a hand. “I’m sure,’ she stood up as well. “Now if you don’t mind, I have darkspawn to deal with. You know, an _actual problem_.”

“Of course, Commander.”

He left the room, leaving Kitranna alone. Kitranna sat back down in her chair, her hands shaking. 

This was not going to be good.

 

Sigrun and Velanna wandered the Keep, trying to remain inconspicuous.

“I hope everything goes alright with that Seeker,” Sigrun said. She shifted from foot to foot, anxious.

“There is little to be gained by speaking to him,” Velanna said. “Surana should simply throw him out.”

“I don’t think that’d be a great idea,” Sigrun said. They continued on, and Sigrun knocked into a redheaded dwarrowdam by accident.

“Oh, sorry, I--” the redhead stopped. “Why, you—lying, backstabbing duster!”

“I beg your pardon?” Velanna said in a dangerous voice, putting a protective hand on Sigrun's shoulder. “It was you who ran into her, you obnoxious--”

“That's not what she's mad about, ibine,” Sigrun told Velanna quietly. 

“Name's Mischa,” the redhead told Velanna. “And your friend here ruined me,” she glowered at Sigrun.

“Well, I hardly care about what one obnoxious durghen'lan thinks,” Velanna said with a huff. “I am sure you deserved it.”

“Velanna!” Sigrun hissed. 

“Maybe you should learn some manners before you start insulting Gray Wardens!” Velanna continued, jabbing Mischa in the chest. 

“ _Velanna_!” Sigrun grabbed Velanna's arm and dragged her away, ignoring Mischa's outraged words. 

“The nerve of that _felasil_!” Velanna exclaimed. “Who does she think she is--”

“Velanna, please, can you stop before she tells the Commander?” Sigrun snapped. 

“And what would she tell the Commander?” Velanna demanded. “That she accosted you in the street?”

“And that you screamed at her!”

Velanna snorted. “I think the Commander has more to worry about than her,” she sneered.

Sigrun sighed. “Look—I—I know her,” she said. 

“So?”

“And...well..” Sigrun rubbed the back of her head. “She hired me for an odd job or two.”

“So?”

“Velanna...” Sigrun pinched the bridge of her nose. “Look, I...stole some things for her, for Beraht--”

“Who is Beraht?”

“Crime boss. If you wanted a job, you had to go through him.”

“And he wanted you to steal from that woman?”

“Yeah.”

Velanna frowned. “Why did you not stand up to him?”

“Stand up to him?” Sigrun laughed. “Velanna—he would have killed me!”

“In that case, you should have killed him first,” Velanna said. 

“Velanna…” Sigrun sighed. “You don’t understand. I was just a—a rotten, thieving, duster,” Sigrun said. She wiped angrily at her eyes.

“You were no such thing,” Velanna snapped. “It's not your fault what your people made you do.” she sniffed. “Now I will not hear any more of this. That woman is a fool and that is that.”

Sigrun laughed. “How are you so sure of everything?”

“I am sure of things that are clear.”

“Oh, you always know how to make me feel better,” Sigrun patted her shoulder.

 

Kitranna got them all together as soon as Lambert left the Keep. She sat behind her desk, feeling exhausted.

Kitranna sighed. “Lambert’s headed out,” she said.

“And?” Anders said. “What happened?”

“Nothing good,” Kitranna shook her head. 

Anders folded his arms. “And what exactly does that mean?”

Kitranna gritted her teeth. “I’m not sure,” she said at length. “It could be an empty threat. Or…”

“Or what?’

“Or, the Wardens might have to deal with a lot of Templars soon.”

“Oh, Maker,” Anders pressed the heel of his hand to his forehead. “Dammit, dammit—was there nothing you could have done?”

“Short of telling him I’d go back to the Circle and take you with me when the darkspawn were done, no, nothing.”

Anders began to pace.

“What do we do now?” Nathaniel ask.

“Prepare for an attack, I guess,” Kitranna said with a shrug.

"You think the chantry would attack us?" Nathaniel asked, shocked.

"Them, the darkspawn--whatever. The point is, we need to try and deal with it."

The Wardens all glanced at each other, but no one disagreed.

 

Kitranna spent the next several days fortifying Vigil’s Keep against a possible attack. The darkspawn might come back, and there was an increasing anxiety in the back of her mind of Templars coming. 

Lambert was long gone, of course, but they hadn’t exactly parted on the best of terms. She hadn’t even given him her reports. 

Then Varel came to see her with another problem.

“Commander…”

“What is it now?” Kitranna demanded. 

“The local lords have gathered,” Varel said. “The darkspawn are fielding their forces--they want to know how you’ll protect them.”

“Delay them,” Kitranna snapped. “We don’t know enough yet to make a decision--”

“They will not be delayed, Commander.”

“Fine,” she waved a hand. “Bring the ungrateful bastards here.”

“I highly advise that you not call them that to their faces, Commander,” he said. 

The nobles were gathered, all very angry and worried. Before any of them could speak, Kitranna stepped up. 

“Tell me what the problem is,” she snapped over the rumble of the crowd. “And I’ll deal with it.”

“Commander, there’s a darkspawn army right on our doorstep,” one noble said.

Kitranna snorted. “Army, right, whatever. Go on.”

“How do you plan to protect our holdings from them?” Another noble asked.

“The same way I do everything,” Kitranna snarled. “Any real questions?”

Varel pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Take this seriously,” one of the other nobles exclaimed, but was cut off.

“Commander!” a messenger came running through the crowd. “Commander!”

“What is it?” Kitranna said.

“There’s a darkspawn army within sight of Amaranthine!”

The crowd began to murmur to itself, and someone let out a shocked cry. 

“Void take them all,” Kitranna muttered. 

“Our forces can’t move quickly enough,” Varel said. “But a smaller band might make it in time.”

“That’s—suicide!” another noble exclaimed.

“It wouldn’t be suicide if you people had gotten your act together before this,” Kitranna snarled. “I’m sick of this. I’m dealing with it—I’ll fix your Maker-damned problems for you, like I’ve done every single time--” she stomped forward. “You’d think your soldiers wouldn’t know the proper end of a blade,” she snapped. 

“Commander…” Varel said, eyes flicking to the increasingly hostile nobility. 

“Out of my way,” Kitranna snapped, pushing through the crowd. “I have darkspawn to deal with.” she turned back to the crowd. “You all, defend your lands and your people.”

She left, leaving Varel to deal with the irate nobility. 

 

She met up with the other Wardens.

“We have to go to Amaranthine,” Kitranna said. “Before the darkspawn get there.”

Sigrun shook her head. “I can’t believe they’d move so fast,” she said. “They usually never come up to the Surface when it’s not a Blight.”

“It must have something to do with that man from the mines,” Anders postulated. “He didn’t look like a regular darkspawn…”

“These darkspawn are more intelligent than the usual ones,” Nathaniel reminded them. “Perhaps they simply learned a better strategy than ‘infest the Deep Roads.’”

“Whatever it is, we need to go and deal with them before they reach Amaranthine,” Kitranna said. 

They packed up and headed out, quicker than they normally would have. Kitranna brought Sigrun, Anders and Velanna with her, leaving the others to defend Vigil’s Keep. A smaller group would travel faster, and having Justice, Oghren and Nathaniel at the Keep would help if the darkspawn were to attack it. 

On their way to Amaranthine they came across a group of Dalish, accompanied by no halla and no aravels, indicating they were probably hunters. 

“Ander’an atish’an, travelers,” the leader of the group approached them, his hands open. “Do not be startled—we only wish to be on our way.”

“Marren…” Velanna breathed. 

“Velanna,” Marren’s mouth curled. “Isn’t this a surprise. You’re traveling with--”

“Gray Wardens,” Kitranna said. “I’m Commander Surana. You’re with Clan Limdurlahn?”

Marren raised his eyebrows. “Commander?” he looked at Velanna. “Why are you with the Warden Commander?”

“There a problem?” Kitranna asked. 

“Velanna was exiled,” Marren said. “I am surprised she was able to join your group.”

“Anyone can join the Wardens, if they survive,” Kitranna pointed out. She narrowed her eyes. “Exiled? Ambassador Andoriel told me that Velanna and her friends had more of a difference of opinion than full on exile--”

“The ambassador did not need to know the details of our conflict,” Marren said. “Ilshae merely wanted the Wardens to be aware of it.”  
Kitranna raised her eyebrows.

“Marren, stop,” Velanna said. “I do not wish to speak of this. We have other things to be concerned about. My friends are dead, and Seranni is gone, taken by darkspawn.”

“Ilshae warned her not to go with you,” Marren said.

“Then tell Ilshae that she was right!” Velanna snapped. Sigrun put a hand on Velanna’s shoulder and glared at Marren.

“One of your people gets taken by darkspawn, and you just want to rub it in Velanna’s face?” Sigrun snapped. “What’s the matter with you?”

Marren stared at Sigrun, shocked. Kitranna picked at her fingernails. “He probably doesn’t know what happens if you get taken by darkspawn,” she said with a shrug. “Anyway, listen,” she told Marren. “Is your Clan with Clan Leanvunlas? You might be able to help us--”

Marren sighed. “Our Clan fought with Leanvunlas and the others in the Blight, yes,” he said. “That has no bearing on what we are doing now.” he took a breath. “Ilshae has passed on. Her First—the new Keeper—does not wish for us to remain allied with the others.”

“Passed on?” Velanna breathed.

“Yes,” Marren snapped. “Not that it would matter to you—the Clan is better off without your poison.”

“Hey!” Sigrun snapped, stepping in front of Velanna. “What’s your problem? Is there some rule your Clan has about not being nice to people or something?”

Velanna put a hand on Sigrun’s shoulder. “Do not make a fuss over me,” she told her. “We should be on our way.”

“But he--”

“Leave it,” Velanna glared at Marren. “He is not worth your time.” she drew herself up and tilted her head with disdain, putting her arm around Sigrun’s shoulder. Sigrun put her arm around Velanna’s waist and pulled her close in a protective way.

Marren narrowed his eyes, blinking curiously, but didn’t press. 

 

When they came upon Amaranthine, it was already beset with darkspawn. They fought their way to the gates of the city, the darkspawn numbering greatly, almost as many as there had been in Denerim, and far more than had been in the Deep Roads. 

The captain of the local guard came to greet them.

“Warden-Commander, I am glad you arrived when you did, but there is little to be done now,” he said. 

Kitranna scowled. “What happened?” she demanded. 

The captain shook his head. “A couple of nights ago, a swarm of gruesome creatures emerged from beneath the city,” he explained. “They spread pestilence and destroyed everything they touched. Then, at dawn, the other darkspawn came.”

“They will have gutted the city by now,” Velanna said, looking upon Amaranthine.

“No,” Sigrun said. “We can still do something!”

“Warden-Commander, it’s too late,” the captain said. “Amaranthine is lost.”

“Yes, well, maybe you think that,” Kitranna said. “But I definitely don’t. Get a hold of yourself. There has to be something we can do.”

“After so long, there will be few survivors,” the captain said. “And the corruption is so virulent—worse than ordinary Taint. A quarter of the city succumbed to it in a day.”

“Captain,” one of the other soldiers pointed over the captain's shoulder. “A darkspawn approaches—alone!” 

The archers drew their bows on the darkspawn as it shambled up the road. Strangely, it had its hands out, as if in a gesture of peace.

“Peace!” the darkspawn spat. “Do not be killing! Only talk! The Architect has a message for Gray Wardens!”

Kitranna’s lip curled. “And what’s that?” she demanded, tapping her forefinger on her blade. 

“The Mother’s army, it marches to Vigil’s Keep. The Architect, he sent me to warn you!”

“And the Architect is…?

“You have been meeting him before! In the mines!”

“That big man,” Sigrun said. “That must’ve been him.”

“So I suppose the Mother is the leader of the opposition,” Velanna said. 

“You must defend Vigil’s Keep, then slay the Mother in her den!” the darkspawn insisted.

“And….why would I do any of what you said?” Kitranna asked.

“The Gray Wardens are valuable to the Architect,” the darkspawn explained. “The Mother, she knows this.”

“If we leave now, we may be able to return in time to save Vigil’s Keep,” one of the soldiers said. 

“What about the darkspawn here?” the captain said.

“Soon, they will go to Vigil’s Keep as well,” the darkspawn said. “The Mother, she wants it destroyed utterly!”

Kitranna narrowed her eyes. 

“Why should I believe a word you say?” she asked.

“There is no reason for lying!”

“The darkspawn has a point,” the soldier said with a bitter twist to his lips. “We cannot defend the city with another army hot on our heels. The captain says the city is lost. I say we burn it, and all the darkspawn trapped within.”

“I--” Kitranna looked from Amaranthine, then the direction of Vigil's Keep and back again. “I--”

Amaranthine had done no wrong, it did not deserve to be attacked.

But if Vigil’s Keep was stormed and taken, there would be no place to be protected by the Chantry. Nathaniel, Justice and Oghren were there, and it had better defenses, but all she could think of was the first attack, when the other Wardens had all been killed.

They could not defend themselves without her, and she could not defend herself without her fortress.

She gritted her teeth and with one last look at Amaranthine, she said “We have to go back to Vigil’s Keep.”

“Commander!” Sigrun exclaimed. “We can’t—we can’t just leave them--”

Kitranna turned her back on the city. “I can save one place,” she snapped. “Just one.”

“There must be another way--” Anders said. “You can’t be considering this!”

“Do you have any suggestions?” Kitranna demanded. “I’d love to hear them!”

Everyone was silent. 

“Nothing?” she looked around at her companions, a tinge of desperation to her words. “No one?”

“Destroying the city is the only real option,” Velanna said. “I stand with the Commander in this.”

“This is wrong,” Anders insisted. “If there’s even one innocent person there--”

“I’m not hearing any other solutions from you,” Kitranna snarled. “The city’s already been taken—would you let Vigil’s Keep be overrun too?”

Anders and Sigrun exchanged a look. 

“You--” Sigrun was at a loss for words, and looked longingly up at the city. “There really isn’t another way, is there?”

“I don’t see one,” Kitranna said. 

“Then Amaranthine will burn,” the captain said. “Maker forgive us for what we are about to do.” 

Kitranna scowled. 

 

Amaranthine burned behind them, and they made their way as fast as they could to Vigil’s Keep. The darkspawn were virulent, surging upward from hidden entrances in the Deep Roads, trying to prevent them from getting back to the Keep. 

Some darkspawn fought the others, presumably agents of the Architect, but it still took them much longer than they would have liked to get back to Vigil’s Keep.

At the Keep, the walls showed the distinct sighs of fighting. Kitranna cursed and stormed her way in, the others following at her heels. 

“Commander!” Varel met her at the gates. “You returned!”

“Yeah,” Kitranna said. “What’s been happening?’

“A few days after you left, we spotted darkspawn heading our way, a whole army,” he explained. “The walls have been bloodied, but the worst is yet to come.”

Kitranna gritted her teeth. “Then we better stop it—Amaranthine already burned, we don’t need more problems.”

“Amaranthine? Burned?”

“The city was already under attack,” Kitranna said. “We couldn’t save both places.”

Varel shook his head. “I--I--”

“We have to get people at the walls,” she snapped. “We need to defend as much as possible. Do we have someone watching those damned tunnels?”

“Aye, commander,” one of the dwarven representatives said. “They are sealed as best they can be.”

“Good,” Kitranna said. She gestured to the other wardens. “Come on, we can’t waste any time.”

There was a tremendous crash, and a cry arose form the archers on the walls. Kitranna swore a blue streak and dashed back down the steps, to the main gate, the other Wardens following her. The darkspawn had broken through, and they needed to fight them back. 

Flaming stones were catapaulted over the walls, one smashing into the roof of the Keep proper, the others landing inside the walls. 

Darkspawn swarmed through the main gate, despite the attempts to keep them back. After the darkspawn came ogres, two of them, and one of them landed a hit on Varel and knocked him back.

“Varel!” Kitranna cried, seeing him go down. 

More ogres charged through the gate, and Kitranna shrieked in rage. She hurled spell after spell, accompanied by the other soldiers fighting as hard as any demon.

At long last, they pushed the darkspawn back, and the walls were clear. 

As soon as the darkspawn left, she went to Varel’s side. He was horribly wounded, but would be fine. A scout came to Kitranna.

“We know where the darkspawn came from,” she said. “Their retreat left a trail even the greenest of recruits could follow.”

“I’ll follow it, then,” Kitranna growled. “I’ll follow it and kill them.”

“Commander--”

“Surana, you can’t,” Anders protested. “Not—you’re still wounded, for the love of the Maker!”

“I don’t care,” Kitranna snarled. “The longer we wait, the more time they have to build their army back up. We need to go, now.”

“What if this is a trap?” Nathaniel said. “Like the mines?”

Kitranna shook her head. “Doesn’t matter,” she hissed. “We’re going.”

“The Commander has the right of it,” one of the soldiers said. “The more we wait, the more Broodmothers can spawn more evil.”

“This is too obvious, even for them,” Sigrun said. “What if--”

Kitranna stalked away, ignoring her companions. She had hardly cleaned the blood off her face before she and the other Wardens were following the trial of the darkspawn. The trail was dark and very clear, as the messenger had said, a long path of bile and dead plants and animals. 

The trail lead into a ruin filled with dragon bones and Children, deep and smelling of sulfur and magic. 

“Why are there so many dragons here?” Sigrun murmured, reaching out and prodding one of the enormous bones sticking out of the earth. 

“They call it the Dragonbone Wastes,” Nathaniel said quietly. “The stories say that dragons come here to die.”

“But why?”

Nathaniel shrugged. “That, I could not tell you.”

“We walk on Tevinter ruins,” Velanna said, pointing at one of the ancient stone structures that dotted the area. “Perhaps they worshiped the dragons, and drew them here on purpose.”

They went down deeper into the ruins, where the bones of dragons stopped and the ruins of temples and buildings became more frequent. 

It was here that they found Seranni.

“I’m glad to see that you are well, sister,” 

Seranni came striding out of the darkness.

“Seranni?” Velanna gasped. “Oh, thank Mythal that you are well!” she rushed over and pulled Seranni into an embrace. “What did the darkspawn do to you? Why are you with them?”

“The Architect is kind to me,” Seranni explained. “He has told me his plan. “The darkspawn are just like us.”

“Surana…” Anders muttered, putting a hand on Kitranna’s shoulder. Kitranna glanced at him with a raised eyebrow, and Anders stepped forward.

“The Architect has freed them, and they are searching for a place in the world, just like the Dalish!” Seranni said. 

“Velanna, look at her eyes,” Anders said, taking one of Velanna’s wrists and tugging her back.

“What is the matter with you? Velanna snapped, yanking out of Anders’ hold. 

“She’s Tainted,” Sigrun murmured. “Velanna, look--”

Seranni’s eyes were glassy and pale, and under her skin ran tiny black veins. Velanna stepped back. She shook her head. 

“What did they do to you?” she asked. 

“Everything the Architect has done, he’s done for his people,” Seranni said. “You can respect that, can’t you?” she was almost pleading.

“Seranni--they killed our friends, and so many others!” Velanna exclaimed. “Don’t you remember?”

“I do,” Seranni said. “And this is why I must help them. They come into this world with no understanding of what is just and fair, like children.”

“That isn’t your duty,” Kitranna said. “Especially not when they’ve pretty clearly given you the Taint.”

“They have poisoned you,” Velanna grabbed Seranni’s wrist. 

“They have a bestial nature,” Seranni insisted. “But they can overcome it! They just need to be shown how!’

“Then come with us,” Velanna begged. “Come back, and tell people, so they might know what you have learned!”

“No,” Seranni tugged out of Velanna’s hold. “No, I have work to do.”

Kitranna shook her head. “She’s half-crazy with Blight,” she said.

“No, she isn’t!” Velanna snapped.

Kitranna waved her sword in Seranni’s direction. “Are you listening to this? They poisoned her, and now they’re trying to get her to do what they want.”

Seranni shook her head and stepped back. “The Architect is waiting for me, and for you. He will explain everything. You will see as I have seen.”

She moved away, back into the shadows.

“No—Seranni, don’t go!” Velanna cried, but Seranni was already gone. Sigrun came up to Velanna. 

“I’m sorry, ibine,” Sigrun murmured. “We’ll get her back. We have to.”

“Of course we do!” Velanna exclaimed. 

Further into the ruins, there was a massive spiral staircase. There was nowhere else to go, so they went down the steps, down and down and down. There seemed to be no end to them, and everything became darker the further they went. They could sense darkspawn, the feeling of the Taint crawling up around them. 

After a certain depth, bloody gray meat began to grow on the rock walls, smelling like poison and Taint and something none of them could identify. Darkspawn accosted them as they went down further, trying to knock them down the steps. 

At the bottom of the steps were more darkspawn. They killed them and realized that set into the floor was a faded, ancient carving that Velanna identified as Tevinter spell. They had no way to activate or deactivate the spell, so they just continued on. 

There was another staircase, leading even further down into the darkness. 

“Why would the Tevinters build all of these?” Justice murmured, looking around. “What is the point?”

“No idea,” Kitranna said. 

The Architect made himself know when they were in the depths of the ruins. All was dark, save for some ancient crystals and fires burning sluggishly, making the ruins alive with a reddish half-light. He came to them, stepping out onto a balcony over their heads.

The man they had seen in the mines towered over them. Now that he was up close, he seemed even taller than before. His features were oddly stretched, his limbs and neck elongated and too long to look quite right.

By his side was the dwarven woman they had seen in the mines. 

“And so we meet again.” his voice was soft, with a peculiar accent that was impossible to place. 

The dwarf took her sword and shield off her back, but the Architect put out a long, clawed hand to stop her. “No, Utha,” he admonished. “That is not how this must begin.”

“Why not?” Kitranna demanded. “You pretty quick to attack us last time.”

The Architect stepped off of the balcony he was on, and floated down to their level, as light as a feather and easy as anything. They all moved back when he landed soundlessly on the ground.

“I owe you an apology,” the Architect said, sounding genuinely contrite. “When last we met, I attempted to explain, but fate intervened.”

“We escaped your infernal prison, you mean,” Velanna snapped.

“I restrained you only to prevent the misunderstanding that occurred with the rest of your Order,” the Architect informed them. Utha had gone the long way, down the steps, and now she came to stand behind the Architect. 

“Misunderstanding?” Velanna and Sigrun looked at each other, and the other members of the group all looked mutinous. “Did you not attack them?” Velanna asked.

“I sent the Withered to ask for the Gray Wardens’ help,” the Architect explained. “I should have anticipated that you might view our approach as an attack.”

“Alright, you’re lying,” Kitranna snapped, pointing her sword at the Architect. “When I got there, all the Wardens were dead, and so were about half of the soldiers. There is no way they would have been killed if you’d just sent a messenger.”

“That’s right,” Oghren said. “Tons of those darkspawn just poured out of the tunnels. It wasn’t just one messenger.”

The Architect tilted his head to the side. “Others accompanied the Withered, of course,” he said. “And if they came through the tunnels, they were less likely to have been struck down by arrows.”

“Yeah, if you want diplomacy, sending a bunch of armed darkspawn right under someone’s fortress isn’t the best way to go about doing that,” Anders said. 

“Ah,” the Architect’s brow furrowed. “I am rarely able to predict how your kind will react.”

Kitranna shook her head. “Whatever,” she snapped, turning her blade over and over in her hand. “I’m sick of listening to this.” she raised her blade, but the Architect put out a hand to stop her.

“I only ask that you hear me out,” he said. “Should you wish to slay me afterward, you may try.”

“Oh, I’m going to try either way,” she assured him, approaching him with blade in hand. 

“Stop,” he held out a hand, and suddenly she and her companions were frozen. “Listen to me. My kind has ever been driven to seek out the Old Gods. This is our nature. When we find one, a Blight rises. Each time, we attack your lands, and you fight back until we are defeated.”

“You’re wrong,” Sigrun snarled. “You attack my people even when there’s no Blight.”

“There is room enough in the Deep Roads for all. It is your people who attack mine.”

“How do you justify Broodmothers?” Sigrun demanded. “You need us to make more of you!”

The Architect frowned, the expression pulling at his face. “We can break the cycle of Blights,” he insisted. “But we need Gray Warden blood.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” Kitranna gritted, fighting the architect’s spell with Arcane Warrior strength. “Our blood is Tainted, just like yours.”

“To become what you are, to transform, you drink the blood of my kind,” the Architect said. “So too must we transform.”

“In that case, shouldn’t you want untainted blood?” Nathaniel demanded. 

One of Kitranna’s arms burst free of the spell, and the rest of her soon followed. She hurled a paralyzing glyph at the Architect and advanced upon him and Utha, blade in hand. She shook her head.

“None of what you’re saying makes sense,” she growled. 

“But, what if he is right?” Velanna burst out. “What if it stops the Blight?”

“It doesn’t matter, because he’s wrong,” Kitranna snarled. The others began to break free of their own bindings. “Lying or wrong.”

Sigrun took her warhammer in hand. “And stopping the Blights wouldn’t stop the darkspawn attacking my people,” she said. 

“I suppose it wouldn’t,” Velanna said, and she slammed her staff upon the ground. “You are correct, Commander. This does not make sense.”

The Architect snapped out of the glyph, and with a sigh, he moved back, lifting his feet off the float and returning to the balcony where they had first seen him. 

“A shame,” he murmured to himself. “The Mother wishes to stop me, and to stop you as well. It was she who sent her messenger to Amaranthine, not I.”

“Well, it’s a good thing we’re going to kill everything we see down here,” Kitranna snarled, and hurled a fireball at the Architect. 

The Architect dodged it, and retreated. 

“Get back here!” Kitranna exclaimed. 

“You’re wrong,” Utha was still there, though she had retreated up the stairs. “He is right.”

“Oh yeah? How’s that?” Kitranna hummed. “Oh, wait--I don’t care.”

Utha snarled and turned and darted up the steps, to vanish into the shadows again. 

“Come on,” Kitranna said. “Let’s find this Mother thing.”

The Mother’s nest could be found down a series of twisted and stinking passages, the feel of darkspawn so strong that it drowned out almost everything else.

The Mother was enormous, even for a Broodmother. She had a strangely human head and torso, and even wet, dark hair that reached her shoulders. Blood trickled from her eyes and the corners of her mouth. She raised her head when she saw them. 

“Now the pieces fall into place,” she said, her voice wet and thick like something clogged her throat. “The Gray Warden comes, instrument of the Father.”

"I’m no one’s instrument,” Kitranna snarled. 

“I have told you many times, ‘Mother,’” the Architect appeared behind them, flanked by Utha. “I am not the Father. I am merely the Architect.”

“The _fuck_ \--” Kitranna snarled, turning on the Architect. 

“Peace,” the Architect told her. “Our enemies are one and the same.”

“That does not change what you are!” the Mother burst out, raising her bloody hands. “You took away that beautiful music—left us with nothing!”

“It was a mistake to free you,” the Architect said, sadness evident in his voice. “I have only left you with madness. For that I am sorry.”

“Look, that's enough talking,” Kitranna snapped. “Everyone? Get the darkspawn.”

The Architect attempted to speak again, but the battle was immediately joined. They focused their efforts on the Mother, instead of the Architect. 

The Mother roared, her mouth unfolding in a wet red swell, human teeth caught in a gaping maw. 

Kitranna gasped in revulsion, charged forward with her sword. It was a long fight, but at long last, the Mother collapsed, slumping forward, clearly dead.

“Alright,” Kitranna hissed. “Now you,” she advanced on the Architect, who merely shook his head and burst into a cloud of sparks, taking Utha with him.

“Dammit,” Kitranna cursed. 

“Where did he go?” Velanna demanded. “How are we going to find Seranni now?”

“First, we need to get out of here,” Kitranna said. 

Kitranna and the others crawled out of the mine, grateful to see sunlight again. They returned back to Vigil's keep, bloody and injured, but alive and victorious. Then they set about repairing the damage that had been done.


	12. In The Morning Glad I See

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> almost done, folks! this chapter and then the last one 
> 
> lambert goes full conspiracy nut in this one

When Lambert returned to the Grand Cathedral, he immediately sought a meeting with Nicolene. 

“Lambert,” Nicolene greeted him. 

“Lady Seeker,” Lambert inclined his head. 

“What news do you bring?” Nicolene asked.

“Surana is dangerous,” Lambert said. “And she abuses the power of the wardens to her own advantage.”

“Mm,” Nicolene nodded. 

“She drew herself into an altercation with several Templars,” he said. “Who were attempting to arrest the apostate, Anders.”

“I understand that particular apostate is a criminal?”

“Yes, well under the authority of the Chantry. The Templars only let him join the Wardens because they suspected it would cause too much trouble to arrest him openly.”

“I can't speak much for their tactics,” Nicolene said, stroking her chin. “Better to have firstly enforced the law of the Chantry, rather than wait and use subterfuge. This incident will only give the Ferelden Crown and the Wardens the power to say that the Templars are duplicitous and obey their own laws only when it suits them.'

“The city of Amaranthine is also destroyed, by Surana's hand,” Lambert said.

Nicolene paused for a minute, considering that. She looked at him with narrowed eyes. “You are sure it was Surana?”

“Surana burned the city of Amaranthine rather than attempting to save it,” Lambert said, his expression icy. “She preferred to salvage her own Keep instead of the innocents in the city.”

“And these unusual darkspawn there were reports of?”

“Gone,” Lambert growled. “I have encountered nothing of the kind. There is no evidence that they even existed, apart from the word of Surana and those on Surana's side.”

“I understand that both the Keep and Amaranthine suffered darkspawn attacks, however,” Nicolene said, wrinkling her brow.

“Darkspawn attacks, yes, but nothing to confirm this nonsense about talking darkspawn.” Lambert said. “I have seen nothing unusual, merely an increased number of darkspawn.”

Nicolene leaned forward. “Would that not indicate something unusual?” she asked. 

“Perhaps,” Lambert said. “But I believe it is possible that Surana orchestrated this entire farce,” 

Nicolene stared at him, her expression unreadable. “And why is that possible?”

“I have seen far worse for far less in Tevinter,” Lambert said. “Think on it—the darkspawn attack Vigil's Keep and kill the Orlesian Wardens, leaving Surana with no opposition. The Fereldans practically worship her after the defeat of the Archdemon, and she has the backing of the King, meaning that even without a title the nobility are loathe to listen to her. New darkspawn would frighten the uneducated, leaving her with a reason to martial her own forces and acquire new Wardens—to her liking, of course.”

“And how does the burning of Amaranthine factor? That would hardly endear her to the populace.”

“If Amaranthine was a threat to her martial power, destroying it would leave Vigil's Keep the sole authority in the area,” Lambert explained. “All other nobles have little martial power to oppose her, even with her own lack of noble title. The Gray Wardens would have control over the area, and therefore it would only further enforce King Alistair's own rule.” 

“Hm,” Nicolene leaned forward. “And the Circle would have a mage to look up to—someone who has quite openly defied the Chantry and Chantry regulations, with little consequence.”

“Considering she has two apostates in her ranks, one a murderer? Yes, exactly so.”

Nicolene was quiet for a moment, considering. “Her influence has gone too far,” she said. “King Alistair alone has shifted the balance of power in Ferelden over to the Gray Wardens, but Surana is directly flouting Chantry authority.”

“We cannot allow her to do so,” Lambert said.

“I agree,” Nicolene said. “She has already been removed from noble status, but it quite clear she is too much of a danger to go unchecked.” she got to her feet. “Clearly, King Alistair is incapable of reigning her in—or he is actively allowing her to continue, for the sake of the Gray Wardens.”

“That makes him a threat as well, of course,” Lambert said. 

“He can be convinced of the correct course,” Nicolene argued. “He was to be a Templar before the Wardens recruited him. He married Queen Anora to prevent war—he clearly cares enough about Ferelden to stop Surana from tearing it apart.”

“He cannot be pleased with the burning of Amaranthine,” Lambert said.

“No. He cannot.” Nicolene began to pace. “If we forcibly return Surana to the Circle with no backing from the Divine, we expose ourselves as too aggressive, and to the Fereldens, even hostile. If, as you say, they hold a great admiration for Surana, we must have more credibility than she does.” she bit her lip. “However, the Divine rarely authorizes anything for herself these days.”

“You believe the Grand Clerics will not be amicable to this course of action.”

“You know the Mothers,” Nicolene waved a hand. “Unwilling to take action, unless it is through other actors. They would not have the Chantry strained with potential blood.” she gnawed on her thumbnail. “However, if we appealed to the Divine directly, without going through one of the Grand Clerics--”

“Ah,” Lambert nodded. “Then her words are ours, not theirs, to interpret.”

“Precisely.”

 

So it was that Nicolene went to see the Divine. 

Divine Beatrix was very, very old, and had been dying by inches for years. Her mind came and went, and mostly, she slept. 

Now she lay in her enormous bed, far too large for the small, frail woman. Her Templar guards had let Nicolene inside without so much as a passing question. Everyone knew the Lady Seeker, after all, and as Templars, they were beholden to the Seekers.

Nicolene knelt by Beatrix's bedside. 

“Your Worship,” she murmured, averting her eyes from Beatrix's face, as was only proper. “There is something I must do.”

In the doorway appeared Cassandra, her brow furrowed. 

“Lady Seeker?” she asked. 

Nicolene looked up. “One moment, Cassandra,' she said. She turned back to Beatrix. “There is a person I must take action against,” she said, softer now. “A Gray Warden. Will you allow it?”

Beatrix opened her eyes and looked at Nicolene. Her brown eyes clouded with cataracts, the color almost obscured my milky white.

“Your Worship,” Nicolene breathed in Beatrix's ear. “We need your word.”

Beatrix blinked, her hazy eyes unfocused. 

Cassandra watched Beatrix whisper to Nicolene, but she couldn’t hear what it was. Nicolene listened intently, than straightened, satisfied.

“Cassandra,” she said. “Tell Lambert I am going to Denerim.”

“Why?” Cassandra asked as Nicolene strode out the door. “What business have you in Denerim? What did you need to speak to the Divine for?”

“We are taking care of the Surana problem.”

“The Surana problem?” Cassandra followed Nicolene. “What problem?”

“That woman is a menace,” Nicolene said. “She flouts Warden power, abusing it to her own ends. She threatened Templars out of legal action, and burned the city of Amaranthine rather than let it be saved. The Wardens have demonstrated they cannot keep a leash on her. I believe it is possible Surana may make an attempt for the Ferelden throne, or something similar.”

“And why did you need to speak to the Divine?” Cassandra asked. “Surely the Grand Clerics would understand--”

“They would take no action,” Nicolene said. “You know priests and Clerics, Cassandra. They spend far too much time talking and none acting. We must prevent Surana from making the south another Tevinter.”

“You believe she would do that?” Cassandra asked, aghast. 

“She is a mage,” Nicolene said. “Many of them would do that if they could. And she can.”

“I—as you say, Lady Seeker,” Sassandra said. “Do you wish Lambert or any of the other Seekers to accompany you?”

“A contingent of Orlesian Templars,” Nicolene said. “They must be Orlesian, mind, not Fereldan—Fereldens are too susceptible to hero-worshipping the woman, even Templars.”

“And Lambert?”

“He will stay here, to maintain order.”

“Yes, Lady seeker.” 

Cassandra watched Nicolene walk down the hall, her brow furrowed. Her stomach churned with unease. 

She did not like how this was heading.


	13. My Foe Outstretched Beneath The Tree

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter; we're boned
> 
> also, the return of morrigan!

Kitranna was called to Denerim soon after she and the others  
returned to Vigil's Keep.

“Probably something nasty and political,” she told the other Wardens, rolling her eyes. “I'll be back soon—keep a watch on the walls, make sure no other darkspawn try bashing themselves against them.” she instructed the other Wardens.

“We should come with you,” Sigrun said.

Kitranna shook her head. “You stay here,” she said. “Watch the Keep.”

She headed to Denerim, alone, and when she arrived, she immediately went to see Alistair with no preamble.

“What's all this about?” she demanded of Alistair, not so much as removing her armor.

“Not sure,” Alistair said. “Probably something bad.”

“Why's that?”

“The Lady Seeker herself is coming.”

They shared a grimace.

“That can't be good,” Kitranna said. “The fuck more could she want? I'm not a noble—like she wanted.” she sighed. “Well, I just fought the worst darkspawn I've ever seen, so I'm sure it won't be worse than that.”

“Speaking of which—how did that go?”

“Ugh, you should've seen it, Alistair,” Kitranna said. “A huge Broodmother, but worse--!”

“Worse?” Alistair exclaimed. “How could a Broodmother get worse?”

“Alright, so—think a human woman top, then a Broodmother bottom,” Kitranna said. “Then imagine that she could turn her mouth inside out.”

Alistair thought about that for a moment. “That is disgusting,” he proclaimed.

“Don't even get me started on the smell,” she said.

“Don't—the Lady Seeker's already here,” he said. “Anora's been keeping her busy, but she doesn't look happy. Come on.”

Alistair lead Kitranna to the large room where he and Anora held audiences. Anora was already there, along with an older woman in Seeker garb.

“Lady Seeker,” Alistair said.

Lady Nicolene rose to her feet. “Your Majesty,” she said, inclining her head. Her eyes flicked to Kitranna. “Am I to assume you are Warden-Commander Surana?”

“That's me,” Kitranna inclined her head.

“You must know it is rude to bring weapons to a peaceful meeting,” Nicolene said, indicating Kitranna's sword. Her eyes narrowed, looking it over.

“Yeah, well,” Kitranna said by way of explanation. “What's all this about? What do you want?”

“I am here to discuss a matter of extreme importance,” Nicolene said, her expression not wavering from polite neutrality.

“And what's that?”

“The influence of the Wardens and the Circle upon the Ferelden government.”

“Lambert mentioned something about that,” Alistair said, and they all sat down.

Nicolene inclined her head. “It has been a concern of ours for quite some time,” she said.

“Well, it's ridiculous,” Kitranna said. “The Wardens--” she looked at Alistair. “Alright, you got me there, there is a Warden on the throne, that doesn't look too great. But the Circle?”

“Events have unfolded in such a way we have reason to believe that the Circle and the Wardens conspired to influence the Ferelden throne,” Nicolene said.

“Wait a moment--” Alistair leaned forward.

Nicolene spoke over him. “And even if that is not the case, you, Surana, have far overreached the amount of political power it is appropriate for a mage to have.”

“Yeah?” Kitranna placed her hands on the table. “Why don't you tell us about that?” she asked. “Because last I checked, the Chantry doesn't have any authority over Wardens.”

Nicolene's expression did not waver. “Consider this. A Circle mage is recruited into the Wardens on the eve of the first true Blight in five hundred years. Immediately after she is recruited, King Cailan and the other Wardens are all killed. The only two survivors left are the mage and, conveniently, the only other heir to the throne,” she leaned forward. “Who himself was recruited several years earlier by a friend of another mage Warden from the Circle. The Warden takes it upon herself to establish alliances to end the Blight, and then successfully does so in a year, when all previous Blights had taken many years and many Wardens to end.”

Alistair and Kitranna glanced at each other out of the corners of their eyes.

“When the Archdemon is killed—the only Warden casualty being a non-mage Orlesian—the sole heir to the throne is made King, a decision made by the mage Warden, who had also had influence over who inherited the throne of Orzammar not three months before. Enough influence that the Queen of Orzammar shelters a blood mage apostate from the Chantry, simply because that apostate is a friend of the Warden.”

She leaned back in her seat. “Later, that same mage Warden is declared Arlessa by the King, even though mages are forbidden from holding noble titles and Wardens are only allowed to do so by the barest of ancient laws. Later, the mage Warden recruits not only an apostate wanted by the Templars, but a Dalish apostate known for hunting and killing merchants.” she cocked one eyebrow. “All while fighting a darkspawn threat that no one has ever heard of before. Have I been misinformed in any of this?”

“The sequence of events is correct,” Anora said. “But--”

“So you understand why this may seem suspicious, at best, to the Chantry.” Nicolene said.

“Maybe if you're an idiot,” Kitranna muttered.

“Surana, don't,” Alistair muttered back.

“Lady Seeker, you must realize the unusual events of the past few years,” Anora said. “The Blight, then this business in Amaranthine--”

“Both of which are over,” Nicolene said. “According to your own reports,” she looked at Kitranna. “So you have no business influencing the Ferelden government and people in the ways that you have been doing.”

“I don't know if you're aware, but the Chantry has—no—authority—over—Wardens,” Kitranna said, as if Nicolene were dense.

Nicolene was impassive. “Incorrect. Should a mage prove to be a significant enough threat, the Chantry's authority supersedes that of the Wardens,” she saw Alistair about to open his mouth. “And of any crown. This includes Orzammar, Tevinter, and any other, smaller authorities.”

“I saved your miserable hides from the Archdemon,” Kitranna snapped, slamming a fist on the table. “None of you would be here if it weren't for me! And now you think you can just tell me what I can and can’t do?”

Nicolene did not react to Kitranna's outburst. “And do you have any proof of that claim?” she said.

“Any proof--?” Alistair exclaimed, flabbergasted. Anora looked shocked as well. “Only everyone who saw her kill the thing--”

“There are mages with the ability to control animals,” Nicolene said, not taking her eyes off of Kitranna. “No one has seen an Archdemon for hundreds of years. No one has any idea what they look like, not really except for drawings in ancient texts, most of which are hoarded by historians and Wardens. All the Wardens would have to do is find a sufficiently ill-looking high dragon, a mage able to control it, and they have a good enough ruse to fool the populace.”

“What about the darkspawn?” Anora demanded. “Lady Seeker—surely you cannot recount all that happened at Ostagar, at Denerim--!”

“Darkspawn attacks happen quite regularly,” Nicolene said. “It is my understanding that Loghain jeopardized the safety of the army at Ostagar through his own paranoia and poor battle tactics. Or am I incorrect?”

“You absolutely are incorrect,” Kitranna snarled.

“Tell, me, Commander, Which is more likely,” Nicolene said. “An Archdemon rises for the first time in hundreds of years, but is killed in under a year by two green Gray Wardens and a hastily cobbled together army, and that afterwards there are strange and powerful darkspawn never before seen or heard of by anyone, capable of killing Wardens and the Legion of the Dead alike--”

“That is more likely, because that’s what happened!” Kitranna snapped.

“Or, that the Wardens, pressured by irrelevance, and the Circle, already rebellious, allied together to concoct a scheme that would satisfy both of their needs?”

“That’s ridiculous,” Anora said.

“Then prove to me that I am wrong.”

“we don't need to--you don’t have any proof about this—mage conspiracy!” Kitranna said, slamming a hand down on the table.

“So we are at an impasse, then,” Nicolene’s expression did not change. “Your version of events is no more accurate than mine is.”

“Of course it is! Because that’s what happened!”

“You have no monopoly on the truth,” Nicolene said. “It is the Chantry that ultimately decides the truth of things, not you.”

“Lady Seeker, what exactly is it you wish us to do?” Anora asked.

“I would, in ideal circumstances, request the Commander to return to the Circle of her own free will, like Enchanter Fiona.” Nicolene said. “Any apostates she had recruited would be taken to the Circle as well.”

“What, so you can make Anders Tranquil or cut his head off?” Kitranna demanded. “So you can lock me in a cell? I don't think so.”

“We have no wish to harm you unless you force our hand,” Nicolene said. “We must think of more things than the desires of one power hungry mage.”

“Power hungry?” Kitranna surged to her feet, and Alistair put a hand on her arm.

“Lady Seeker,” Alistair said. “Your authority ends at the Crown—you cannot tell us how to run our own nation.”

“And who decided the laws of your country?” Nicolene asked. “Was it you? No, my memory misleads me. It was the Chantry who set down laws before you, who shows your line the will of the Maker, and extends to you the divine right to rule. You merely refine what we have given you.” she got to her feet. “The Seekers and the Chantry follow the law of something higher than humans or anyone else—we follow the Word of the Maker.”

“And the Maker is telling you to do this?” Anora asked.

Nicolene looked at her. She reached into a pouch on her belt and pulled out a letter in an envelope. “We have the word of the Divine Herself, allowing us to act,” she said, passing the envelope to Anora. “We have all the authority we need.”

Anora opened the envelope and scanned the contents. Her eyes went wide as she saw the seal of the Divine.

“Here are your options,” Nicolene said. “Remove all Warden influence from your government, excepting Your Majesty, as you have the blessing of the Chantry,” she nodded at Alistair. “And send any mage Wardens to the Circle. Or--” she continued, ignoring Kitranna and Alistair's outraged noises. “Continue being influenced by the Wardens and the mages, and be accused of heresy and apostasy by the Chantry.” she leaned back in her seat. “I understand this could send Ferelden into a civil war. Think on that. Your position is precarious enough as it is.”

Kitranna breathed hard through her nose. She flicked her eyes between Anora and Alistair. Alistair would try to protect her if she protested, but Anora might not.

“I'll do it,” she said finally.

Nicolene cracked her first, chilly smile. “That pleases me greatly to hear, Enchanter.”

“I need to go back to Vigil's Keep,” Kitranna growled. “Tell Anders and Velanna about this myself.”

“As you wish,” Nicolene said. “But I advise that you do not take too long.”

Kitranna growled wordlessly and shoved past Nicolene out the door.

“Oh, and—Commander?” Nicolene said lightly.

“What?”

"I would greatly appreciate it if a Templar contingent escorted you. Just to ease my mind."

Kitranna seethed, lightning crackling up and down her arms, and opened her mouth to protest, but at a look from Anora, she reconsidered. “Fine,” she snarled. “Alistair—we need to talk.”

Alistair stood up, and they were left with some privacy.

“Surana, what are you doing?” Alistair whispered to Kitranna. “Don't do anything reckless, please.”

“Reckless?” Kitranna raised an eyebrow. “Me?” she smirked. “Don't be ridiculous.”

He took her wrist. “Surana, I mean it,” he said.

She looked down at his hand on her arm. She yanked out of his hold. “If they're coming for us, they might be coming for others, too,” she said softly. “Tell Culwydd to watch her back—and the Dalish, also. Shit, maybe Shianni and the Tabrises might want to watch it.” she put her face very close to his. “You know if they're willing to do this to the Wardens, they might do it to all our other allies,” she hissed.

“I know,” Alistair hissed back. “Kitranna, we're a threat—I told you, I told you and Eamon not to crown me, nothing good would happen--”

“Don't blame this on me,” she snarled. “All I've ever done is what's needed.”

Alistair looked at her. “I don't know if that's true,” he said. “But—I'll get word to Culwydd, and see if I can't find a Dalish messenger. You—look out for yourself, alright? Be careful.”

“When am I ever not careful?” she laughed, but there was no humor in it.

She didn't speak to Anora, needing to get out of the city as fast as possible. Anora, however, managed to ensure that Kitranna and Nicolene were never in a room together alone, which was probably a good thing.

When Kitranna left Denerim, she was flanked by no less than five Templars, plate-clad, humorless, and all wearing very large swords.

Being escorted by Templars was ridiculous, but Kitranna wouldn’t be able to slip them until they were far enough from Denerim.

She hated the way they watched her, like she was back in the Tower. She tried to ignore them, and snarled if they so much as looked at her too long.

Morrigan had only taught her minimal shapeshifting. Kitranna had little capacity for it. But the shapes she did know would come in very handy.

When they were about halfway to Vigil's Keep, one night, Kitranna shapeshifted into a cloud of flies. Quiet, fast, and easy to miss. Fortunately shapeshifting worked with her clothes, so she could take her sword and armor, but nothing else.

She sped over the countryside, the shape exhausting her (so many eyes made everything look so odd), but urgency pressing her forward.

She returned to her normal shape once she was far enough away, and practically ran the entire way back to Vigil's Keep.

“The Templars are coming,” Kitranna snarled upon gathering the Wardens and Varel together.

“I knew it,” Anders growled.

“What?” Nathaniel exclaimed. “Why?”

“Not for you, maybe,” Kitranna said. “For me. For Anders. For Velanna, and probably for Justice too, if they spot him.”

“But why? Is it just Ferelden? Are they attacking other Warden strongholds?”

Kitranna nodded. “Not yet, but maybe soon,”

“What for?” Sigrun asked.

“To get the mages,” Kitranna explained. “There’s a decree from the Divine and everything. Should reach us soon. Wardens can’t have mages anymore.”

“That’s quick,” Nathaniel said.

“Well, they have more of a problem with me and Anders than mages in general,” she said. “I mean—they still don't like mages, but...'

“Well, that's just wonderful,” Anders said, throwing his hands up. “And here I thought being a Warden would help my problems—apparently not.”

“Definitely not,” Kitranna said. “And they're gonna be even more pissed than usual because I had to ditch a Templar escort to get here.”

“How'd you manage that?” Anders asked. “I've tried it loads of times. Never works.”

“Shapeshifting,” Kitranna said.

“You need to teach me that trick sometime.”

“Later. Now, we have to worry about--”

“Commander,” Varel entered the room. “Someone is here to see you.”

“Fuck,” Kitranna swore. “If it's a Templar, don't let them in--”

“She's not a Templar,” Varel said.

“Then who is she?”

“I am entirely capable of speaking for myself,” came a very familiar voice. Morrigan strode into the room, heavily pregnant and bearing a staff in one hand.

“Morrigan,” Kitranna breathed, and crossed the room to take Morrigan into her arms.

“My love,” Morrigan smiled. “I am so glad to see you.”

“I thought you weren't coming back,” Kitranna said.

“I was not. Then I heard that you needed assistance.”

“Great t'see you decided to turn up,” Oghren said.

Morrigan wrinkled her nose at him. “And how pleasant to see you have stayed exactly the same,” she said.

“Does someone want to catch us up?” Anders asked. “Who are you, exactly?”

“Oh—this is Morrigan,” Kitranna explained. “Morrigan, this is everyone.”

“How did you know of what was happening here?' Velanna asked, her eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“I have been paying attention, of course,” Morrigan said, raising her eyebrows. “It does not do to ignore the goings-on of such powerful entities as the Chantry.” she looked at Kitranna. “What do you wish to do about your current predicament?”

“Not sure,” Kitranna said, chewing the inside of her cheek. “We could fight them--”

“Bad idea,” Anders said immediately.

“Why?” Velanna demanded. “They have no right to us!”

“Sure they don't,” Anders agreed. “But that won't stop them. If you fight them, you'll end up fighting the entire Chantry.”

“And that will definitely not be good for Ferelden as a whole,” Nathaniel added quietly.

“Well, neither would getting rid of all the Wardens!” Sigrun said.

“They wish only the Commander, Anders, and possibly myself,” Justice pointed out. “They would likely not attack all of the Wardens.”

“Unless we fought back,” Nathaniel said with a grimace. “Then they'd have reason to attack all of us.”

“Yes.”

Kitranna closed her eyes. “We run,” she said.

“What?” Velanna demanded. “We cannot run from them!”

“Believe me, I'm ready to fight every last Templar that comes my way,” Kitranna said. “But fighting would just make things worse, for us and for Ferelden.”

“What care have I for Ferelden?” Velanna snapped.

“If there is a massive upheaval against the Chantry, they will become far more aggressive against other bodies,” Morrigan said. “Such as the Dalish.”

Velanna went pale.

“We don't have much time,” Kitranna said. “The Templars are probably a day behind me, maybe less--”

Morrigan put a hand on her arm. “There is a place we can go,” she assured her. She looked at the other Wardens. “I do not think all of them may come with, however.”

“Then where do we go?” Anders asked.

“We split up,” Kitranna said. “They want me, and they want you,” she pointed at Anders. “Splitting up will make it harder for them to find either of us.”

“But where should we go?” Anders asked again. “Listen—I have tried just about everywhere, and they always find me--”

“That’s because they have your phylactery,” Kitranna said. “Morrigan, is there anything we can do about that--?”

“It is simple blood magic,” Morrigan said. “The trail should be confused by the Taint in your blood.”

“Blood magic?” Nathaniel asked, lips pursed.

“What else did you think a vial of blood used in a tracking spell was?” Morrigan asked. “If the trail must be thrown off more, drink the blood of another. Preferably someone of another race.”

“What?” Anders squawked. “I have to kill someone--?”

“Where did I say that you must kill someone?” Morrigan rolled her eyes. “All you have to do is cut open someone's arm, or whatever body part they may prefer, and drink from that. Even a small amount of someone else's blood in your body will confuse the spell.”

“Lovely,” Anders said with a grimace.

“Effective, though,” Kitranna said. “Great—we have somewhere to run, where are they running to?”

“Perhaps Orzammar?” Varel suggested.

“We'd either have to go through the Deep Roads or right towards Orlais, where there's bound to be more Templars on the road,” Anders said. “It's always easier to head north than west.”

“The Free Marches, then,” Nathaniel said.

“Free Marches, good, you head that way, Morrigan and I will head in another direction. Start packing, we have to move,” Kitranna said. “And we have to move now.”

“Wait—where are you going to go?” Sigrun asked.

“Morrigan?” Kitranna asked.

Morrigan smiled. “There is a place I know of that is safe,” she said. “But we cannot all go, and I would not have you know it, in case you are captured.”

They scrambled to get supplies, Morrigan having already brought her own and Anders already equipped with a bag that he had just in case he'd needed to run. Finally, they all stood at the front gates. Oghren, however, was not packed.

“Listen,” Oghren said. “You need someone to keep the Templars off your back—I'm no mage, they won't give a damn about me. I'll stay here.”

“Oghren--” Kitranna started, then clapped him on the shoulder. “Give one a black eye for me, hey?”

“Sure thing,” Oghren said.

“Are you sure?” Anders asked.

“I'll be fine,” Oghren assured him. “Don't much feel like goin' to the Free Marches anyway.”

“Alright,” Kitranna said. “Let's get out of here,” she clasped Anders' forearm and gave Sigrun a one-armed hug, then nodded to everyone else. “Be careful,” she said. “And good luck.”

“Hurry, now,” Morrigan said. Kitranna climbed up on Morrigan's horse, and they swiftly rode away.

Sigrun took Velanna's hand. “Come on,” she said to the others. “Let's get out of here.” Velanna helped Sigrun onto their own horse, and Anders helped Nathaniel onto theirs. Justice had no need of a horse, as on foot he was as fast as one and did not tire.

“No fear there,” Anders said. “I was ready to go hours ago.”

“Let us leave,” Velanna said. “And quickly!”

They urged their horses forward, north, towards whatever lay in the Free Marches.

 

The Templars arrived a bare three hours after the Wardens had left, all utterly furious.

“We demand to see the Warden-Commander!” one of them shouted at the gate.

“She ain't here!” Oghren called from the wall surrounding the Keep. “On her honeymoon! So piss off!”

“This is ridiculous,” the Templar muttered. “Open the gate!” he shouted.

The gate creaked open, and the Templars stepped inside.

“There's no need for this display,” Varel said with a scowl, coming to greet them.

“Where is the Commander?” the Templar demanded. “That dwarf said she was not here--”

“She had a most urgent errand,” Varel said. “A situation arose in the Deep Roads. I can point you to the entrance she took, if you like.”

“The Deep Roads?" the Templars looked at each other. “She must be heading for Orzammar,” one of them growled. “What of the other Wardens?”

“As you can see, Warden Oghren is right here,” Varel gestured to Oghren, who gave a little wave.

“Not him,” the Templar snapped. “The mages.”

“They have gone to deal with the same situation,” Varel said. “They are no longer here.”

“What possible situation could have come up?” the Templar demanded. “Surana was with us not a day ago! She gave us the slip!”

“I presume her reasons were good ones,” Varel said. “Wardens, after all, can sense the Taint. Perhaps she could feel something in the Deep Roads and wished to spare your lives.”

“Yeah,” Oghren growled. “It's not like you're exactly equipped to go explorin', are you?'

“I've had enough of this,” the Templar snarled. “Where is she?”

“Not. Here.” Varel said. “I don't know how much clearer I can be.”

The Templars searched vigil's keep from top to bottom, but of course Kitranna and the others were long gone. They even searched the tunnels under the Keep, but there was no sign of them.

Oghren did indeed give one of the Templars a black eye. Outraged, they would have arrested him, but Templars had little authority over non-mages and even less over dwarves.

Eventually they left, sending a report back to the Grand Cathedral, fully prepared to hunt Kitranna and the others down.

 

“So. The Warden-Commander is gone.”

Lambert nodded, a scowl on his face. “It appears so, Lady Seeker.”

Nicolene sighed and leaned back in her chair, frowning. “I thought for sure she would not run,” she said.

“Did you truly think that?” Lambert asked, raising an eyebrow.

“She was conscious of the plight of her fellows,” Nicolene said. “Concerned for their well-being, or at least she appeared to be. She doubtless knows that her fellows will suffer for this—or at least, they believe they will be suffering.”

“I do not believe she truly cares,” Lambert said. “I have known her sort before. They are not the caring kind. We must continue to find her, Lady Seeker.”

“And why is that?”

“She may continue to be a threat,” Lambert said. “Consider if she gains asylum from Queen Aeducan, as it is very likely she would—Queen Aeducan was only put on her throne because of Surana, she could easily influence her.”

“And thus affect the lyrium trade, at best,” Nicolene nodded. “At worst...”

“If she had the inclination, it is quite possible she could cripple the lyrium trade,” Lambert said.

“Dealing a heavy blow against the Templars and enabling even more apostates,” Nicolene nodded. “And if she is not heading for Orzammar?”

“Then we have no real idea of where she might be, and that makes her more dangerous.”

“Mm,” Nicolene nodded in agreement. “It certainly does. What of her phylactery, and that of Anders?”

“Wardens are difficult to track with phylacteries,” Lambert said. “And they seem to have found some way of confusing the spell. They are not reliable tools.”

“I see.” Nicolene leaned forward in her chair. “The Clerics would believe that she is no longer a threat,” she said. “That the Wardens are telling the whole truth, and that we are overreacting.”

“This is no overreaction, Lady Seeker.”

“We both know that, Lambert. But they do not. So. What are we to do about it?”

Lambert was quiet for a long moment. “Divine Beatrix will not live for much longer,” he said. “The next Divine who is appointed must be someone we approve of.”

Nicolene leaned forward, a gleam in her eye. “Absolutely,” she said. “Now. Who are you thinking of?”

 

Cassandra heard every word.

Very quietly, she moved away from the door. Her head spun. The Lady Seeker spoke of influencing the Clerics and even the appointment of the Divine—illegal at best, heresy at worst. This made no sense—but on the other hand, it did. Nicolene's logic was sound, cold and calculating, not the reasoning of a madwoman.

But Cassandra would never go against the Divine, nor could she subvert the Chantry so blatantly.

Something had to be done.

That evening, she sent a message to the Nightingale.

She hoped it would be enough.

**Author's Note:**

> reminder that you can find my tumblr at http://thetapestryunwoven.tumblr.com/


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